It's Easier to Run
by FaerieBerii
Summary: Castiel Milton has trust issues, and after finding out his fiancé is cheating on him, his life begins a twisted path downwards to a place he never wants to see again. Now, three years later, he's moved on with his life, and he couldn't be better. That is until his car breaks down and Castiel's boss, Lisa Winchester, has his car towed to her husband's garage.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One  
Trains and Sewing Machines**

Nick Milton was a product of divorce.

He had four brothers: Gabriel, Malachi, Michael, and Jimmy. His parents, Naomi and Metatron, were content with their large family, happy but not _happy,_ and that was the problem. When Nick was a sophomore in high school they broke the news to the boys. Nick vowed he'd never put his kid – or kids – through that. Gabriel and Malachi moved away after high school, Gabriel never fit in with his family's ideals, Malachi wanted nothing do with them – period. Jimmy moved to start his own family, but always stayed in touch. Michael stuck around, being closer to Nick than any of his other brothers.

* * *

It was in his junior year that he met Anna. He was the linebacker on his high school's football team, the Red Devils, and though it was expected of him to date a cheerleader he still found himself drawn to the redhead.

The first time he saw her she was walking through the hallway, her slender frame engulfed in light denim jeans with a slight flare starting below her knees. Her black Pink Floyd _Dark Side of the Moon_ t-shirt was a size too large, her black ankle boots barely visible except for the round toe peeking out. Her long red hair, almost copper in color, was worn straight and down, none of those silly hair accessories were worn. She had her head bent down close to the redhead beside her; this girl was wearing a purple shirt with billowing sleeves, dark denim bellbottoms, and a pair of Birkenstocks. This girl had darker red hair that was worn in a loose braid tied off at the bottom with a flower hair tie. The darker red hair girl whispered something to the girl beside her, the other immediately throwing her head back laughing, a laughter so loud it rebounded of the walls. It was like music to his ears. The two redheads continued on to class, now clutching their books to their chests, taking no notice of the jock staring in their direction.

After asking around he later found out the two girls were Anna Shurley and Charlie Bradbury. Anna was part of the debate team and FBLA while Charlie was the only girl involved in the Dungeons and Dragons Club. After some help from his brother Michael, he found out where she ate lunch and planned an ambush. Waiting patiently he spotted her walking out onto the quad, Charlie glued to her side. Wiping his hands on his dark denim flare jeans he made his way over, red and white ALL*STAR low top sneakers squeaking slightly. Now standing in front of the two girls, his shadow blocking the sun which had left their skin turning pink, he coughed nervously.

Charlie ignored him, a D&amp;D book splayed out on her lap. Anna looked up, her olive green eyes standing out against her porcelain skin, eyebrows drawn together in annoyance. If the math book and paper were any indication, it seemed he had interrupted her homework. Again he coughed nervously; he could feel the sweat building up on the back of his neck, his long wavy blonde hair not helping a damn bit.

"Um… I know we haven't met before but I'm Nick Milton and I was wondering if you'd like to hang out at Coleman's after school. That is if you aren't busy," he glanced over at Charlie, who had abandoned her book, a smirk on her face as she watched them curiously. He wished she would catch a hint and go the fuck _away_! He turned his gaze back on Anna who had a perfectly arched eyebrow raised. Hey, it was better than her looking pissed at him.

Setting her book and papers to the side she stood up, meeting him eye-to-eye thanks to the bricks under her feet. "I know who you are _Nick Milton_ and I don't know what your game is, but we all know jocks like you don't speak to people like _me_. So you can shove your offer and tell your buddies to find some other girl that'd be stupid to fall for your shit." Scooping her things up, Charlie following suit, she stepped around him, walking back toward the school entrance. The feel of a hand on his shoulder jerked him from his shock. Looking down into bluish green eyes, he let his confusion show.

Charlie smiled sympathetically at him, "Give her time man, I mean, you _are_ breaking every rule of High School 101 by asking her out, but I'll talk to her if you're serious – and you had better be serious. If I find out you're just trying to make her look like a chump, I _will_ hurt you. Dig?" Though her face was full of understanding, the undertone of her voice made it clear her promise was no joke.

"Ya ya, I dig. I am serious though, I really like her. Just…Could you put in a good word for me? I know I should be going after a cheerleader, but they're all air heads." Charlie snorted and rolled her eyes in agreement. "I'm not looking for that. I want someone smart and kind, someone like Anna. So could you do your best, Charlie? Please?" She nodded and patted his shoulder one more time before heading inside. Nick followed in her footsteps when the bell rang signaling the end of lunch, praying that Charlie kept to her word.

* * *

It was almost a month after the incident, and Nick was beginning to think that Charlie had been blowing hot air, he hadn't heard a word from Anna or her, nor had he seen them in the hallways. It was a Friday so Nick was stuffing all of his books in his locker, grateful that homecoming was next week. Sure Nick loved football, but he was ready for a break from after school practices and traveling for away games, he also craved the free time that would come with the break.

Not hearing her step up he jumped when he closed his locker door only to come face-to-face with pale skin and green eyes. Anna smiled shyly, it fit her better than the pissed off scowl he last saw her with. She worried her bottom lip with her front teeth, showing off a slight overbite that was surprisingly adorable on her, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. She took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling, shifting her gaze to something over his shoulder. "So I talked to Charlie, well she talked and I somewhat listened, and she said you just _might_ have been serious about asking me out. So if the offer still stands I wouldn't mind grabbing a bite, though I'd understand if you had chang-"

Nick cut her off with a peck on the cheek, grinning like an idiot. "Of course I haven't changed my mind! Just give a minute to let my little brother know I'm not going to be able to give him a ride, and we'll head out. Meet me out front?"

Nodding, she turned and headed for the doors, looking over her shoulder with an apprehensive expression. Nick watched her go before rushing upstairs to let Michael know to take the bus home. Taking the stairs slower this time, he was still winded when he reached Anna and they made their way across the parking lot to his black '70 Dodge Charger.

The ride was less than a mile and the parking lot was full, all of their classmates having the same idea. Red and white decorations were everywhere; the cheerleaders had already ambushed the local drive-in in preparation for next week. They managed to squeeze up to the counter and order their food, but finding a free table was damn near impossible so they got it to go and made their way outside. Nick juggled their food on the way to his car, planning on using the hood as their table. As they ate a soft autumn breeze lifted Anna's hair and Nick couldn't look away, the sun caught every highlight in her hair making it appear two shades lighter than normal.

They spent their time in a comfortable silence, making comments on teachers and classmates. Anna almost shot sweet tea through her nose when Nick did an impression of Mr. Singer, their pain-in-the-ass English teacher. It was nice, it felt… _right_.

Finishing her burger Anna looked over at him smiling, a smudge of ketchup and mustard on the corner of her lips making it even more endearing. It was at that moment that he knew he was going to marry this girl, but that was just between him and the person he was praying to.

* * *

After that they were nearly inseparable, going to every school function together and cheering each other on at their respective activities. Hell they were even voted Most Cutest Couple two years in a row.

It was during winter break of '79 that he proposed under a street light in front of the drive-in where they had their first date. Naturally Anna said "yes" and they were wed a month after they graduated high school.

They both went to college in the fall, well _community_ college, but it was better than nothing at the time. Anna went full time in hopes of moving on to a university to become a teacher, while Nick went part time so that he could work to provide for them. It wasn't until '82 that they began to discuss having kids, and by September Anna was pregnant. She ended up dropping out and getting a job at the hospital where her mother, Becky, worked.

The pregnancy was tough on her, her morning sickness lasting through the day and farther than the first trimester, but she managed to keep her weight maintained. It was ten days before the baby was due when it all came to a head.

Anna was off work for the day and started feeling worse than ever, and after calling her mom, petrified, they rushed Anna to the hospital fearing the worst for the unborn child.

Her blood pressure was sky high and the baby's pulse was abnormally fast, it was also breech. The doctor tried to turn the baby, but it was as stubborn as its mother and they had no choice, an emergency C-Section had to be performed.

It was at 10:49 pm that night in May of '83 when Castiel James Milton was born. His head was covered in black hair and his eyes were a deep cobalt blue. He looked just like his Uncle Jimmy. Everything was perfect as Anna cuddled with her son; however, the only thing missing was Nick.

* * *

When Castiel turned two things became tense between his parents. They were both working but Nick was always working late. Luckily they lived close to Anna's parents so Castiel usually stayed with them until one of his parents came home. Anna had her suspicions but didn't want to believe them; she had no choice one December night.

She picked up Castiel from her parents' house and headed home, Nick wasn't supposed to be home for a couple of more hours. Castiel laughed at his mom as she sang along (very poorly) to an upbeat Christmas song playing on the radio, but she stopped when she pulled up in the drive way to see Nick's car. Furrowing her brow she turned the car off and gathered Castiel up, trying her damnedest to demolish the feeling in her gut.

Stepping into the house nothing appeared to be out of sorts, only it was odd that Nick wasn't in his usual spot on the couch. Sending Castiel off to his room to play she headed toward the bedroom to change, but stopped with her hand above the knob. The sounds she heard from behind the door were familiar; anyone above the age of 15 would know those sounds.

Opening the door she wished she had worked a night shift, god how she wished she had worked a night shift. There in the bed they had shared for two years was Nick and another woman, one she recognized as Ruby, a girl that had been a grade behind them in high school.

Anna gave him an ultimatum, his family or _her_.

January of '87 they were legally divorced.

* * *

Nick got the trailer they had lived in, Anna and Castiel moved into a house that had a set of stairs leading up to the apartment above it.

Anna lost weight, lying to her family about eating, too stressed _to_ eat. She continued to work and Nick's visits with Castiel were set up as stated in their divorce agreement. One particular visit was one that Castiel would never forget because Nick never showed up. That was the last visit they would have for years, that was the point where their relationship began to deteriorate.

* * *

When Castiel was 5 they moved again – for the last time – into the house beside Anna's parents. They probably would have stayed in their tiny apartment, but one particular day Anna stopped by the apartment to pick up a few things before going to her parents' house. She didn't realize at the time that the small space heater had a gas leak and wrecked the car on their way there. Everyone was okay, but the end result wasn't a hard decision for anyone to make.

Castiel started going to day care when he started Kindergarten. He loved reading, had a few friends, but was always picked on – especially at day care. Sure it got to him, but he tried to ignore them. It wasn't his fault that his family was different.

Around that time Anna started dating and one guy, Jim Miller, was one of the few that Castiel actually liked. He loved spending time with his son, Max, but one night they left Jim's house and never returned. It wasn't until years later that he found out that Jim had done a fake proposal in front of his family. One other guy, Dick Roman, was just asking to get punched in the face, the guy was an asshole… enough said.

* * *

When Castiel was 6 his father got married to a woman named Eve. He was invited to the wedding, but he decided not to go. The choice of going to a boring wedding or hanging out with his mom at a waterpark seemed pretty easy to him. Besides, he didn't really know them at all. Perhaps this decision didn't set with Nick to easily.

* * *

It wasn't until Castiel was 8 that he met the new guy, Caleb Fitzgerald, someone his mom had met at work. He worked for a company that delivered medical items to the hospital and after sometime the two finally started dating. Castiel was a bit hesitant at first, he wanted to hate the guy just like he hated all the others, but this guy was different. He had three kids from his previous marriage: Jo, Ash, and Garth. The family of four wiggled their way into Castiel's heart; Caleb won him over by including a song just for him on a mixed tape for his mom.

Later that year Castiel broke his elbow at day care.

When he woke up from the surgery everyone was there, including Nick and Eve. It took a few minutes to realize who they were. He was happier with the stuffed mouse that Garth gave him.

He was pulled out of day care after that, and was once again watched by his grandparents. It wasn't long before the Fitzgerald clan moved in and Castiel was being watched by the older kids.

* * *

There were fights.

Caleb was a bit of a drinker; sometimes he was funny, other times not so much. Anna took to taking care of all the kids, much to Caleb's chagrin.

There were lots of fights.

* * *

When Castiel was 11 Caleb and Anna married. Things didn't change much, not one damn bit.

* * *

It was during the fall of '96 – Castiel was 13 – that he made his first attempt. It's hard to remember _why_ but one night he just couldn't take it. He went to the bathroom and downed as many random pills as he could and went to bed, hoping to never wake up. A few hours later he woke up, shaking uncontrollably and scared. Creeping into Anna's room crying he crawled into bed with her, just like when he was younger, and for the first time he wondered what he had done. Did he _really_ want to die?

He had a seizure. He was placed on medication. He never told anyone about what really happened that night.

He also never questioned why Caleb wasn't there.

* * *

At some point during high school the Fitzgerald's slowly moved out. Jo moved to her mom's and ended up pregnant, marrying the father shortly after. Caleb moved out next, staying in a trailer down town with Ash and Garth.

High school went smoothly, Castiel got into a couple of normal teenage rebellious fights with Anna. Depression crept in every so often. Castiel found a fascination in cutting.

* * *

His 18th birthday came the day before he graduated high school. Along with Anna they met Nick at the county court house to have his court appointed child support checks terminated. Nick wished him a happy birthday and relayed a message of the same from Eve and Lilith, his 8 year old half-sister. Castiel invited them all to his graduation ceremony, and was answered with a "we'll see."

The next day found the stands void of Nick, Eve, and Lilith. Who was there was just as much of a shock. Caleb, Jo, her son, and Anna (of course) all showed up. Castiel would always remember this day as the day he cut his father from his life.

Castiel Milton was a product of divorce.

* * *

Edited on October 28, 2014.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I want to thank those who commented, followed, and even favorite this fic! It means so much to me, so please keep it up.**

* * *

**Chapter Two  
They Still Can't Erase You**

When August '01 came Castiel started taking courses at the community college his parents went to. He was still too shy and withdrawn to attempt moving out and going to the University of North Carolina in Wilmington which was an hour and a half away, and he knew that at least he'd see people he _kinda_ knew at the community college. Enrolling to earn an associate's degree in business seemed like the smart thing to do. In high school most of his elective courses were business related, hell he was even in the FBLA like his mom. Funny thing was he really could have given two rat's asses _about_ business.

The courses were fairly easy; Expository Writing was his favorite, mostly because his teacher, Mr. Ludensky, was just kickass. They did a psychology walk-through test that involved all the students imagining they were walking through a forest, each choice and description telling them something they might have never known about themselves. Writing short stories was fun as well and a lot of the work was group related - that part took some getting used to. A lot of his classmates he knew from high school and that made the class even better, but his favorite part would always be Mr. Ludensky. Business Law was another course he enjoyed, it was strange to say so, but perhaps it was the law portion.

* * *

Castiel had never been in a relationship before but he had always been attracted more to males than females. Boobs didn't do much for him and when his "friends" began talking about pussy, well it just so happened he had somewhere _very_ important to be. Lucky for him they were idiots who thought he was just embarrassed because he was a virgin. Of course he was a virgin, and if that's what kept his secret safe, well he was happy to use it.

* * *

It was during his walk around campus that he took notice of how many people were in the same cliques, the largest being the rednecks. Okay so he was born in the south, but it didn't mean he talked like he had a half of can of Grizzly stuffed in his mouth. The accent they spoke with didn't help matters either. He made a strong effort to stay away from them; he knew they were talking about him when he heard a snicker as he passed by, or a lewd gay slur coughed under their breath. He always thought he kept the fact he was gay pretty well hidden, but it would appear that rednecks had their "gaydar" upgraded on a regular basis.

* * *

It was during the month of November that things changed. His Introduction to Business class met on Tuesdays and Thursdays two hours during the evening, the only time that fit around his other courses. The class was alright, but the teacher was really intense and could have benefited from the use of some Xanax. This particular night he ended the class early, so everyone was gathering their things quickly just in the off chance he decided to change his mind. Castiel didn't care much and took his time placing his things in his backpack; he was always forgetting things and rushing only made it worse. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder he stopped short when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Choosing to ignore it he started to walk away again, only to find he felt the tap again. With a heavy sigh he squared his shoulders, making sure to let his annoyance show as he turned around. Instantly he felt fear creeping up his spine.

The man in front of him would have matched his own height, but the thick soled work boots he wore gave him a slight height advantage. He had average light brown hair that came to the nape of his neck with a slight wave at the end. The combination of light blue eyes, dimpled chin, and square jaw were attention getting. The man was slightly attractive, if not for his farmer's tan and dumpy stature. His clothes, however, were ready for a Dan Brickley makeover. A plain dark green shirt was worn under a blue and white plaid button down, left unbuttoned of course. The green shirt was tucked into a pair of washed out ill-fitted jeans that were held up with a worn out brown leather belt. A thick camo jacket was tucked under his arm; text book, notebook, and pen were resting on the desk beside him.

"Can I help you?" asked Castiel, shrugging the strap of his backpack on to his shoulder again. The guy in front of him remained silent while his eyes roamed up and down Castiel's body, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Upon finishing his inspection he realized that Castiel had spoken, the hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks. The blush darkened when Castiel lifted an eyebrow still waiting for a reply.

"Sorry. I – Yes – I was wondering if maybe you'd like hang out sometime. I'm pretty new here and could use someone to help show me around. That is if you aren't too busy – and I'd understand if you were." The guy stumbled over his words nervously.

Castiel smirked as the fear he had initially felt faded into a feeling of amusement. This guy was about as socially inept as _he_ was, and that was saying a lot. "Not to say I'm not flattered but why are you asking me? Everyone on campus knows I'm the reject, the 'red headed stepchild,' the social pariah. So stop with the bullshit and tell me the truth."

"Okay, fine, you're right, I have heard those things." Castiel opened his mouth to shout out an "I knew it!" but was quickly stopped as the guy continued to talk. "I've also heard some other things that you didn't mention, but that's not the point of this. I really do wanna hang out; you'd be surprised how much we have in common."

"I told you to stop the bullshit dude, and to say that _we_ have something in common is fucking laughable. No one has anything in common with me." He turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, rushing down the stairs and out the door of the building. He never heard the guy calling out for him to wait, but it's not as if he heard anything he had said to begin with.

* * *

December came too quickly. Castiel ignored Jeremy – he'd heard a girl call the boy that one day – as Castiel was heading to his car, but it wasn't as if he cared what his name was. Castiel ignored the feeling of someone watching him while in class. Castiel ignored the way Jeremy walked to close to him as he passed by his desk. It was at the end of the semester when Castiel stopped ignoring.

* * *

It was colder than usual the night he finally confronted Jeremy. It was in the parking lot; in front of Jeremy's white '98 Dodge Ram that Castiel pushed him hard against the grill. Castiel had control, needed control of this – but he lost control. Jeremy turned the tables on him and Castiel found he was the one pressed against the truck. It was there that anger gave way to something different. It was there that they kissed and it was there that Castiel realized that yes they did, in fact, have something in common.

* * *

They started dating during winter break. Their dates usually consisted of hanging out at the local Wal-Mart, driving down the boulevard at the beach, or going to Jeremy's place to make out. Castiel found he loved Jeremy's camo jacket, it always smelled of crisp air, burning leaves, and cinnamon (Jeremy always had Big Red in the pockets.) Castiel found he loved riding in the truck; he could live without the CB radio. Castiel also found out he had to keep his big mouth shut.

It was during one of their excursions to Wal-Mart when Castiel pointed to a movie he thought looked interesting. Jeremy bought it for him no questions asked. It continued on like that. If Castiel made any indication he liked or wanted something, Jeremy bought it. Sure he liked it to begin with, but it grew old fast.

* * *

Their relationship was okay. Not the things that sonnets were penned about, but Castiel was content. Jeremy was on cloud nine.

Castiel had a deep love for privacy and space. Jeremy did not.

They didn't have any courses together the next semester, and with Jeremy working part-time, they really didn't see each other much.

One night Jeremy pulled up to Anna's house unannounced to surprise Castiel. Castiel couldn't stop thinking about how romantic it was.

They said they loved each other.

Castiel lost his virginity after that.

* * *

Jeremy kept stopping by unannounced. He didn't even knock anymore.

Castiel was beginning to have second thoughts about their relationship.

One day in April Castiel stopped answering his phone. He locked the door when he saw Jeremy pull up in the front yard.

He ignored the knocks.

He ignored the rings of his phone.

Finally they stopped.

Castiel avoided Jeremy at school.

Castiel couldn't understand what went wrong.

* * *

It was in October '02 that he met Crowley MacLeod.

Castiel had driven to the large university town to get away for that particular day and had decided to take a walk along the downtown area. The leaves hadn't started to change yet and the air was less humid but still warm. Growing annoyed by continuously being bumped into by people, he sidestepped a bustle of people and entered a small bookstore.

The small bell above the door dinged alerting any workers there of his arrival. He began browsing the aisles of a small bookstore, running his fingers along with spines, when he walked into something. That something ended up being the chest someone. That someone ended up being the owner of the store. Apologizing profusely, Castiel backed away and into another someone. Cursing under his breath, he turned around prepared to apologize once again, but a pair of hazel eyes made his breath hitch.

Leaving the bookstore they walked around the riverfront popping into shops at random. Crowley confessed he was only in town visiting some friends for the weekend. He actually lived two hours away and only stopped by this way only on occasion.

Castiel suddenly found more shops to be interested in as well as Crowley's tattoos. He was told they were all dragons, but he was only allowed to see two of them – for now. The implication left a smile on his face, so was the one regarding Crowley's tongue ring. _That_ one left him flushed at flabbergasted.

As the night drew closer a chill came with it and goose bumps scattered across Castiel's arms. Crowley pulled him close, rubbing his arms for warmth as they walked to the parking area. They exchanged phone numbers and Castiel placed a chaste kiss on Crowley's cheek before getting his care. Crowley kissed his lips when he rolled his window down to say goodbye.

* * *

They talked and text constantly after that. His feelings for Jeremy had never been like this before, but he still felt like something was missing. Crowley didn't spoil him the same way that Jeremy had, Crowley gave him his independence. Still there was something missing.

* * *

December brought winter break and Crowley. Anna had given the okay for him to stay at their house for a few days, as long as Crowley stayed on the couch. Both boys grumbled but agreed because there was no arguing with Anna about this. The stubborn woman.

They went back to where they first met; the book store was closed by the time they arrived because of winter hours. There was, however, a horse drawn carriage ride that was offered as a way of showing the area to tourist. The carriage was elongated to accommodate more people and blankets were provided to keep away the winter chill.

The twinkle in their eyes was all that they needed. The whole ride found them making out in the back of the carriage and when they came up for air they were surrounded by a chorus of drawn out "aww's." They both denied their flushed faces were from embarrassment; after all it was cold out.

* * *

Presents were exchanged before Crowley went home; it was too soon to be spending Christmases with each other. Castiel gave Crowley a gray fedora he'd been eyeing online; Crowley gave Castiel the DVD box set of his favorite TV show.

* * *

Castiel started making attempts to go spend weekends with Crowley. They settled on alternating so it was fair on the both of them. Crowley's parents made them sleep in separate bedrooms. That didn't stop them from making out in his bedroom while they were away.

* * *

Valentine's Day found Castiel cooking dinner. Anna had gone out for the night; Crowley was on his way to the house, hopefully with a bottle of brandy so Castiel could complete the meal.

Castiel had never made Steak Diane before, and he wasn't going to make it ever again if it didn't become easier. The steak was starting to look dry, the potatoes weren't roasting correctly, and where the hell was Crowley with that damn brandy?!

"Oh thank God you're here. Now give me that bottle!" Castiel rushed across the house as the front door opened, yanking the bottle of brandy from Crowley's hands and leaving the man stranded in the door way.

The deep rumble of laughter could be heard over the slam of the door closing. Crowley made his way into the dining room, dropping his bag in the corner so no one (Castiel) would trip over it. Making the cautious decision to hang out by the dining table, Crowley crossed his arms and watched Castiel franticly rush around the small kitchen in frenzy.

"Love, I didn't realize were having other guests over tonight," Crowley deadpanned in an attempt to get a rise out of the cook.

Castiel stopped chopping carrots in favor of looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. The look of sheer horror on his face had Crowley laughing so hard his sides hurt. It was always so easy to freak him out. Castiel turned back to his chopping with a huff, waiting until Crowley had stopped laughing to lob the top of a carrot at him. Crowley scoffed as the carrot top fell short and landed on his shoe. He threw it in the garbage on his way into the kitchen, coming up behind Castiel when the knife was at a safe distance.

Castiel instantly relaxed, the scent of CK One comforting him almost as much as the man wearing it. The feel of soft lips on his neck, followed by the nibble of teeth, brought a soft sigh from him as he titled his head to the side.

"Lee, you know what your voice does to me… Talk to me, say anything, please?" Castiel's words came out almost as soft as a whisper, the undertone of pleading barely audible. All Crowley could do was comply.

"Well Angel, I can tell you all the things I plan on doing to you tonight or I can you tell you –" Crowley paused to take the taller man's ear lobe between his teeth, nibbling and suckling on it. He knew the effect his English accent had, and along with his manipulations, Castiel groaned and ground his ass back against him. Castiel had never made his weakness for accents a secret. He had once confessed that while jerking off he could cum just by remembering his voice. "Or I can tell you that the food is burning, pet."

He stepped back in preparation of Castiel going spastic, limbs flailing and curse words flying as he pulled the potatoes out of the oven.

They decided not to flambé the steaks that night in fear of burning down the house.

* * *

The dinner ended up not being a total lost cause. Sure the potatoes, the steak, somehow even the carrots ended up a bit overcooked, but the sauce came out perfectly. Crowley tried to coax Castiel into tasting the brandy, but he declined saying that at least _one_ of them needed to be sober. Crowley snorted and continued to drink the amber liquid.

After everything was washed and put away, Castiel put on a CD of songs he had put together for the night. Crowley gave him a rose as they began to dance, swaying side to side. They both had two left feet and after 10 minutes of stepping on each other's toes, the two went to Castiel's room to lie down.

Love songs continued to play well after they started making out on the bed. Crowley was really getting into it when the sound of a familiar remix filled the air. With a loud groan he rolled away from Castiel, who was now laughing hysterically.

"I thought you loved Elvis, Lee. Or did I get it wrong?" Castiel couldn't stop laughing even after he got the question out.

Crowley hit him with one of Castiel's many overstuffed pillows.

That night they made love for the first time.

Neither one of them had the guts to say how either one of them felt.

* * *

In March, Castiel became depressed.

He had dislocated his ankle by jumping from the second step of the back deck; he was probably a foot and a half off the ground. He was placed on Oxicodone and had to wear a stupid looking boot to keep his ankle in place. Later that week he ended up having his wisdom teeth taken out. He was given more Oxicodone.

Everyone went about their lives, and Castiel felt abandoned. He would call Crowley crying, telling him how he couldn't take it. He wanted to stop the pain he felt. Not the physical pain, the pain killers handled that just fine. It was a pain he couldn't describe.

Crowley never said anything to Anna, but he was worried about his boyfriend.

Castiel ended up trying to overdose on his pain medication; he only fell asleep for a few hours. Even after his ankle was better he was still depressed. He was referred to a therapist and given Zoloft. It seemed to do the trick, except he constantly had to get his dose upped just to feel "fine."

* * *

In May they talked about living together. They both wanted to go the university in Wilmington and felt that living together would be the best thing to further their relationship. It was on Castiel's birthday that they finally said they loved each other.

The summer saw Castiel and Crowley each working part-time and taking summer courses. They weren't able to see each other as much, but they made it work. Castiel struggled with trying to feel happy, even though work was getting to him. He eventually walked out on his job and never looked back.

Wellbutrin was the next step in treating his depression. He had heard the warnings and informed his therapist that he had had a seizure in the past; he was told it would be fine.

* * *

October was when shit hit the proverbial fan. They were both spending the weekend with their respective families. It was a Sunday and Castiel was helping Anna with lunch, his Papa Chuck and Uncle Alfie were over as well. He had just turned away from the table, a covered dish and knives in his hands, when everything went black.

He woke up on his back afraid and was taken to the hospital immediately. He had had a Grand Mal seizure. He was taken off Wellbutrin and placed on Lamictal, which oddly enough, seemed to help improve his mood. He wasn't allowed to drive, much to his chagrin, but it was for his own safety.

* * *

In December '03, after finishing up all their exams, they moved in together. Anna was wary; they had only been dating over a year, but she knew that Castiel had to make these decisions for himself.

The apartment was everything they had dreamed of. It was on the top floor, so they were blessed with 9-foot cathedral ceilings. To the right of the entrance was a set of stairs that led up to a mezzanine that over looked the living room. A second bathroom and bedroom were down the hallway to the left. The living room was large and spacious, complete with a gas fireplace and balcony. Though the kitchen was tiny and cramped, the master bedroom more than made up for it with a walk-in closet and large garden tub in the master bath.

Both of them were set up to start courses at the local community college for spring semester before starting at the university in the summer. They loved each other and were bound and determined to make it work on their own.

Young love, huh?

* * *

Edited on October 30, 2014


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all the followers and to LoveYouself845 for her comments and support. Thank you!**

**Trigger Warning: This chapter contains detailed cutting as a coping mechanism.**

* * *

**Chapter Three  
Your Very Own Lullaby  
**

Castiel and Crowley managed to get a tree put up shortly after moving in, shades of blue and silver reflected off the lights and tinsel on faux evergreen. It didn't matter how much they wanted a _real_ Christmas tree, it was just too unrealistic at the time. They were lucky enough to find the one they did.

Nights were spent spread out lazily in front of the fireplace and making love on any steady surface they could find. They found out that Castiel did _not_ like being fucked over the railing of the mezzanine. Crowley found it hilarious when he spazzed out after looking down at the ground seven feet below.

Christmas Eve was spent with Crowley's family, Christmas day with Castiel's, then Christmas night together when they got home. Vintage tee's, CD's, DVD's, and even a new cell phone were among the piles of loot they gifted each other. The greatest give was given in their bed that night.

* * *

Classes began just after New Year's, which they celebrated by snuggling close to each other on the balcony, watching fireworks and kissing as Dick Clark declared it was officially midnight.

They didn't share any courses together but their spent on campus was the same. Crowley decided it would be best to drive them downtown every day. There were times when they met in the hallways on their way to classes, had lunch, or just hung out. No matter what, though, they were never far from each other.

Castiel was doing well in math and English and even making a few friends – strictly school friends. Crowley flourished in this setting, Castiel never noticed how much attention the other man received, and from both sexes at that.

* * *

At first Castiel tried to push to it to the back of his mind, telling himself that Crowley would never cheat. It was hard to believe though. A month prior Crowley had confessed to being bi-sexual, a fact that didn't ease the knot in his stomach as he watched his boyfriend now.

The shorter man was having his arm rubbed by a 20-something pale female. Her red hair flaming in the spring sun, red painted lips being worried by white teeth. The woman knew what she was doing; Crowley was all but putty in her hands at the moment. Castiel went to the car and waited, telling himself he wasn't going to cry, that Crowley was faithful and just being polite.

* * *

Castiel started scratching shortly after that.

Crowley had gone out to pick up some things and Castiel was left to his own devices, which meant sorting out all his problems in his head. Any time he was stuck in his head things never fared well for anyone – especially himself. So Crowley was surprised to come home an hour later to a sobbing Castiel.

Curled up in their bed, hugging a tear stained pillow to his chest, Castiel lay in a fettle position as if the world had just ended. Slipping his shoes off Crowley climbed on to the bed, wrapping himself around Castiel, playing the big spoon to Castiel's small.

"What happened love?" he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the top of Castiel's hand in what he hoped to be a comforting motion. "I was only gone for an hour. Did something happen with Anna? Your Uncle Alfie? Tell me darling, please."

Castiel shook his head vehemently, another set of sobs shaking his body. "I d-d-don't wanna ta-ta-talk about it! Just – Just leave me alone!" His pain shifted into anger in that one moment, the last sentence laced with venom as he shrugged Crowley away. Scooting to the farthest edge of the bed he began to sob again, as if Crowley had been the one to push him away.

Crowley had never seen him like this before. Sure he had known that Castiel had his bad times, but it had been awhile since then. Things had looked like they were getting better. Yet here was his boyfriend pushing him away as he suffered. He had no idea how to fix a problem he didn't know about.

With a heavy sigh he got off the bed and headed for the bedroom door. Turning and looking at Castiel's still form, he shook his head and stepped into the living room.

It was nearly two hours before Castiel emerged from the bedroom. His black hair was more mussed up than normal, eyes and nose were both red, and his pink tinged cheeks were stained from tears. Jumping up from the couch Crowley rushed over to him, enveloping him in a massive bear hug. The body underneath his went stiff, then gradually relaxed.

"Are you leaving me?" whispered Castiel, resting his head on Crowley's shoulder as he returned the hug. This time it was Crowley who stiffened, the question catching him off guard.

Letting go of Castiel, he placed his hands on Castiel's shoulders, gently pushing the man back. Wide hazel eyes met pleading blue. "Why would you even ask that?! Where is all of this coming from?" His voice was full of hurt from the thought that his boyfriend would think such a thing. That Castiel would have so little trust in him.

Castiel dropped his head suddenly becoming enamored with the floor. He continued in a whisper, "I saw you with that red head – and with a few others. I know I'm not the most handsome, or funniest, or most interesting. So I don't blame you for wanting to leave and if you want me to go I will. I just need to hear it from you, are you leaving me?"

One moment he was staring at his feet, the next he was being lifted up and carried bridle style to the couch. If he hadn't been so upset he would have found the whole thing comical but as it was…

Crowley sat down and cradled Castiel to his chest, using his lap to perch the smaller man on. Taking Castiel's hands in his own he felt his heart break as he looked at them.

"Oh Castiel, love, what did you do? ", he whispered to himself.

The top of Castiel's left hand had been scratched raw, as if the man had dug his nails into the flesh and dragged down from knuckle to wrist, repeatedly. The skin was dark pink and inflamed. Crowley felt his stomach lurch the longer he looked at it.

Shifting him off of his lap, he went to the bathroom for a first aid kit, coming back to kneel at Castiel's feet. Gently as he could Crowley applied peroxide, Neosporin, and wrapped Castiel's hand in gauze.

It's as Crowley's putting all the supplies back in the bathroom that Castiel fell asleep on the couch, emotionally drained. They never did finish the conversation.

* * *

Castiel still wore the gauze when they returned to school a couple of days afterwards. He told people that he had spilled boiling water on his hand while cooking. It was a shitty ass lie but people seemed to buy it.

Crowley made a valiant effort to keep an eye on Castiel.

* * *

At the end of the semester it was deemed okay for Castiel to drive once again. There hadn't been any signs of seizures and he had stopped taking his Lamictal. At some point he stopped taking his Zoloft.

It was almost Castiel's birthday when they went to mall to kill time. Every store they went into Castiel would try to show something to Crowley, but it seemed like Crowley's attention was elsewhere. After the 5th store Castiel had had enough and with a few choice words he stormed out of the store and toward the mall exit. Crowley went after him and they argued. The decision to take Crowley's car turned out to be for the best since Castiel wasn't the best driver when irate like he was right now.

It was when they got home that he bit Crowley in a fit of rage.

* * *

They were still in the car when it happened. Crowley found out Castiel hadn't been taking his meds. He threatened to put him in the hospital. Castiel called his bluff.

* * *

Castiel spent two weeks there. He was allowed to go out for an hour to celebrate his 21st birthday, but wasn't able to drink. When he got out he was set up with a therapist.

* * *

Castiel was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, Dysthymia, and later on, ADD.

* * *

They both decided to hold off on going to school for the summer semester. Crowley got a full-time job, which at the time made sense but may not have been the smartest thing. He being gone so long left Castiel alone, which was never good. So they got pets, a grey colored cockatoo named Chu and a grey/silver kitten named Spring. Taking care of the two animals seemed to keep Castiel preoccupied.

Anna came to visit when she could, even Crowley's mom made the trek over to spend the weekend on occasion. Anything that would keep Castiel from losing himself to his own worst enemy: himself.

* * *

A friend of Crowley's ended up moving in with them in August.

Cecily was a small bundle of sarcasm and was too smart for her own good. Castiel loved her. Well he did until he saw the pictures of her and Crowley kissing.

It was true that Castiel had never asked about any previous relationships that Crowley had been in, but he never thought he'd meet an ex so soon. Cecily and Crowley had dated years back, before Crowley had even started high school, and now were just friends. Besides, Cecily was in an off again/on again relationship with her boyfriend Bart. Just so happened they were in their "off again" stage.

Castiel always kept an eye on Cecily and Crowley when they were together, ignoring the pain inside as he watched them joke around together.

He wasn't jealous.

Not one little bit.

* * *

Crowley never went back to school, deciding to keep working to help with all the bills that had started to accumulate. Classes were going okay for Castiel, until one day when he had a full blown panic attack during one of his classes. Crowley came and picked him up as fast as he could.

After that Castiel started skipping classes. He'd leave in the morning, park in the area across from the school, and wait a couple of hours. Then he'd go home and curl up with Spring. Cecily never took notice, or if she did she never said anything.

He never thought he'd become such a chicken shit after one panic attack.

* * *

One night Crowley, Cecily, and Bart (who'd just recently moved in) all went out to a pub downtown. No one asked Castiel if he wanted to go.

Castiel went to the kitchen to get his favorite drink when he took notice of the knife on the counter. With both items in hand he went into the bedroom, wedged himself between the bed and the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked over the parking lot as he numbed himself.

The drink made his head feel fuzzy and nice.

The knife brought his pain out.

Turning his left arm over, he took the knife in his right hand bringing the blade down to his porcelain forearm. Dragging the blade in a left to right motion against his skin, he pressed in lightly and drops of blood appeared.

He continued.

This was almost as better as scratching.

He continued.

The pain was becoming much more tolerable on the inside as his arm turned red and pink. By now he was on auto pilot, the cuts becoming more and more superficial.

Finally, the pain was gone.

Washing the knife and his glass, he went to bed before the trio returned. Finally he could get some release from the bullshit inside, the kind of release that Zoloft never gave him. Crowley noticed how upset Castiel was the next day and apologized… kinda. He said that Castiel wouldn't have gone even if he _had_ been invited.

True.

* * *

Insomnia sucked ass.

So did almost falling down a flight of stairs from lack of sleep. He was prescribed Amitriptyline to help shut his brain off and stay asleep. It worked for a while.

* * *

One day Crowley had a dozen red roses delivered to this apartment. It was the first romantic thing he'd done in a long time.

* * *

His ADD seemed to be becoming a hindrance so he was given Adderall. Castiel became a shell of himself, feeling empty and numb. One day he ate a pint of Hagen Daz.

He stopped taking Adderall.

* * *

Cecily and Bart moved out in November.

Thanksgiving was spent with their respective families. Castiel knew deep down that there were problems in the relationship.

* * *

As it came closer to December and the end of their rental agreement Crowley stopped answering his phone while out. Castiel wasn't stupid; he just refused to believe it. Their sex life had been lacking so he began initiating more in hopes of fixing the rift.

One night on the steps outside of their apartment Castiel had a breakdown. They talked, and then made love. Nothing was fixed.

Crowley began working later and still didn't answer is phone.

Castiel started cutting again.

* * *

They didn't renew their lease. It wasn't Castiel's idea. Crowley decided to stay in town and Castiel moved back home with Anna. He never said anything about their relationship. It was obvious they were over, but denial gave Castiel faith.

Crowley ignored him, even though he would say "I love you" when they did talk.

* * *

New Year's Eve Castiel had had enough. He drove to where Crowley was staying and his roommate let him in, saying he was out with a girl for the night. Castiel went into his bedroom and stole meaningless items.

He ran red lights that he never saw. He stopped at a store and picked up the biggest package of Unisom they had.

Anna asked if he was okay when he came home. He lied.

When she had finally fallen asleep he took as many Unisom as he could and crawled into bed with his mom. He needed the comfort she gave him before he died.

He woke up the next morning.

Why couldn't he just _die_ already?!

* * *

To ease the hole he felt inside he began to sleep around.

He would form his version of a relationship, have sex, and then end up feeling worse when he never heard from them again. Castiel lost count of how many people he let fuck him. He would feel loved, then like shit, over and over and over.

Then one day in May that all changed.

That was the start of his longest relationship, but it was one that left him more fucked up than ever before.

* * *

Edited on October 30, 2014


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Once again thanks LoveYourself845 for reading the first part of this and giving your input. I hope this chapter came out okay, it was really hard for me to write for some reason.**

* * *

**Chapter Four  
Even I Can't Save Me from Myself  
**

It was an especially mild June afternoon in '05. The humidity levels were low and a north westerly breeze ruffled Castiel's hair as he made out with Balthazar underneath an old Magnolia tree. Running his fingers through soft, dark, dirty blonde hair, he tugged on the ends as he deepened the kiss, ignoring all the sneers from passersby. Balthazar then did this thing with his tongue that made Castiel's toes curl and sent a shiver up his spine.

Pushing away from Balthazar, Castiel gasped for air while Balthazar, who wasn't quite finished yet, attacked his neck fervently. Nibbling on Castiel's pale skin Balthazar held on to Castiel on for dear life, but Castiel was insistent and pushed him back again – this time he was successful. Balthazar groaned and pouted like a five year old.

Standing up and smoothing his shirt out, Castiel looked at his watch taking note of the time. They'd been making out for 45 minutes already and they each had fifteen minutes to get to their respective locations. Hitching his backpack up and on to his shoulder, he held out a hand to help Balthazar up off the grass. He was nearly pulled down on top of the older man.

"Dammit Balthazar, you horn dog, knock it off! I need to get to class and _YOU_ need to get to work. So shoo, off with thee pervert!" Castiel pushed Balthazar away again, dodging his grabby hands, and laughing at the poor man's expression.

"You know, pouting like that, you kinda remind me of a painting I once saw by Pica-" Balthazar managed to get close enough to kiss his lips, shutting Castiel up midsentence.

"Do you ever shut up, Cassie, or are you like one of this cute little dogs that never stop barking?" Balthazar chuckled, and then ducked as a blue backpack nearly made contact with his head. Knowing that it wasn't going end well, he turned and ran across the lawn to his car.

As he reached his car a small ding came from his pocket, alerting him of a text message. Smiling down as he read the message, he knew he'd made the right choice in seeing Castiel that day back in May.

**12:50pm  
I love you, my lecherous jerk face.**

* * *

They didn't meet in the most conventional of ways, but for whatever reason it worked for them. Castiel had been using dating sites to find "the one" but all he had ended up with were one night stands. He was a stubborn bastard though and kept looking, adding to the notches in someone else's belt at the blink of an eye. And the guy that had contacted him looked like the definition of creep.

Dark and dirty, the guy's blonde hair reminded him of beach sand after a summer storm. His blue eyes were piercing, bordering on the edge of blue and gray, standing out against his dark tan skin. The guy's smile though, well he just _looked_ like a pompous, pretentious, prick.

But Castiel was still hopeful and naïve.

* * *

Castiel and Balthazar, who had gone by the usernames ThursdaysChild (because of the angel he was named after) and menagea12 (he didn't wanna talk about it), got along fairly well considering Castiel's original thoughts on him. It was a whole "don't judge a book by its cover" type of deal.

Balthazar was 26, a physical therapist assistant, a Leo, and had an accent that had Castiel nearly cumming the first time he had heard it. He had moved to the states when he was 10 and had moved south 3 years ago. One day Castiel asked him what made him move.

Balthazar had replied, "I'm not sure why I came down here, but whenever I see you I have to think to myself 'that's why'."

Castiel ate it up just like he would any – and every – corny line.

* * *

Their first date had been disastrous.

The last weekend in May wasn't only just Memorial Day Weekend, it was one of the largest bike rallies in their area, and they had stupidly decided to meet at a bookstore right in the heart of it all. Castiel managed to make it on time, but after waiting two hours and not being able to get in touch with the older man, he left. It was when he was 5 miles from home that his phone finally rang.

"Yeah?" Castiel answered in a rather blasé tone, not giving two shits about who was the on the other line. They'd better be glad he answered in the first damn place. They'd better be glad he wasn't hanging up when all he received in reply was deep, heavy breathing.

He hadn't realized he'd said all this aloud until Balthazar's voice was heard, and it sounded like the word "don't" was being punched out of the poor guy. It was as if he was close to passing out with each gasp of air. When he was able to speak fully the words came out painfully, his voice dry.

"No – no please – please don't hang up, Castiel! I am so sorry darling, please – just don't hang up." He took another deep breath, coughing as he exhaled. "Just let me explain, okay? I was on my way, I swear, but my car broke down in the middle of traffic. By the time I got help and to the bookstore, you were already gone. The worker there told me how long you had waited. I am so sorry Castiel; please tell me you believe me."

All Castiel wanted to do was hang up.

"Why didn't you call me? You _do_ have a cell phone, _Balthazar._" He couldn't help but hiss the man's name as he got out of his car and walked inside the house he'd been calling home for almost 17 years. The line was quiet then filled with the faint beeping sound of a car door opening. "And besides that, where the hell are you?"

"I'm sorry Castiel! I just didn't think and there's nothing else that I can say to make it better. I'm sorry. If it's not too much trouble and if you don't have any plans already set up, would you still like to meet? I've just gotten a rental so –"

"No, no, no other plans. Just um – give me some time to get ready and we can meet up somewhere for dinner."

Castiel glanced at the time flashing 6:28 on the hallway clock before running his hand over his face and through his hair. This was like the fucking day that would never _end_!

"Brilliant! Thank you so much, Castiel, and call me before you leave. We can plan the rest of our evening at the restaurant – if that's okay with you," Balthazar finished apprehensively, as if one wrong word would bring all of this to an end.

Castiel rolled his eyes and deeply exhaled. "Sure, okay, fine. I'll call you in 20."

He hung up not waiting for a reply.

* * *

They ended up meeting at a local Wal-Mart parking lot. Castiel leaned against his champagne '96 Honda Accord wearing loose dark denim, black Chucks, and a vintage navy blue tee featuring Pig Pen with the words "Dirty Dancing Champion." Growing impatient he slipped his phone from his back pocket to check the time, and then looked up searching the parking lot. It was then that he noticed a car that _clearly_ didn't belong around the area.

A titanium silver '03 BMW Z8 Roadster was cruising around the parking lot, then headed his way stopping in front of him. The door opened and there was Balthazar. A white V-neck tee clung to the man's biceps; Castiel had never realized how muscular he was in the photos he'd seen. When Balthazar stretched Castiel was blessed with a view of the man's hips bones thanks to the looseness of the low rise jeans Balthazar wore. Castiel cocked a brow when he saw a pair of worn out, tan Rainbows – the man appeared to have had a pedicure recently.

The sound of a cough brought his attention back up to the man, looking up to see him smiling tenderly. Shit, the man was fucking gorgeous; his pictures _really_ didn't do him any justice.

"So I'm going to presume you're Castiel, am I correct? I'd hate to think there's more than one beautiful blue-eyed boy in this crummy, run-down county. Though I do suppose it would make the world a better place if more people were graced with this beauty. You my dear are the epitome of drop dead gorgeous."

All of the snarkiness and anger he had felt before disappeared, much to his chagrin. Castiel had to use everything he had to fight the blush from spreading across his cheeks; he lost and was oddly enough rewarded with a kiss on his heated cheeks.

Staring into the man's amazingly light blue eyes he whispered, "No one's beauty compares to yours," before stepping back and looking down.

Balthazar chuckled and walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and waited patiently as Castiel made his way over. Sliding into the car he was memorized. The colors were a variation of blacks and grays; he couldn't help but run his hands over the leather interior. So enthralled he never noticed when Balthazar got in the car and started it up.

The man chuckled again, happy that he was finally making a good impression.

"So where are we heading, darling. Just say the word, anywhere you want to go. I am at your beck and call, my love." Balthazar reached over and placed his hand on Castiel's knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I guess we could go to – Um – Just follow my directions, if that's okay with you?" He whispered the last part, cheeks aflame once again.

"Anything you want, Castiel. I just want you to enjoy our time together."

* * *

They headed northeast to the city that Castiel had become accustomed to for a year, giving Balthazar directions to avoid any traffic jams that may come up. It was an hour after they left that they arrived at one of Castiel's favorite places.

Alison's was a popular hangout for the college students that were housed a mile away. The arcade/restaurant was made of dark red brick and set at an angle that made it look almost diamond shape, well if it weren't for the entrance that stood nine feet taller than the rest of the building and the covered drop-off area.

If it hadn't been for a sign at the main road, Castiel may have forgotten to tell Balthazar to turn left. They ended up parking toward the back of the obscenely large parking lot, their fingers grazing teasingly as they walked in comfortable silence.

Stepping inside they were assaulted by the sound of loud talking, shouts, and high-pitched "dings" of arcade games. The arcade area was dimly lit, the neon lights from the games providing enough light for the large area. There was skee-ball, DDR, The House of the Dead, a large Soul Caliber II system, and lots of retro games. Balthazar kicked Castiel's ass at skee-ball, but Castiel was the master of Soul Caliber II, and together they made an awesome team at the shooting games.

An hour of playing had worked up an appetite in both men, so they headed over to the restaurant portion to the left of the arcade. There was a bar area located in the middle, surrounded by tables and booths, Castiel and Balthazar picked the latter and sat across from each other. Castiel valued his personal space and didn't feel comfortable sitting that close to the older man, besides it gave him the opportunity to rub his foot up and down Balthazar's leg. All Balthazar could do was smile at the contact, and when Castiel's foot came dangerously close to his crotch Balthazar grabbed the foot and yanked. The loud yelp that came from Castiel had Balthazar laughing to the point of tears; Castiel kicked him in the shin in annoyance.

Their waiter came over shortly after to collect their drink orders, a long island ice tea for Castiel and a beer for Balthazar. Castiel grabbed a menu that was wedged in between a bottle of ketchup and the salt and pepper shakers, hiding his expression of distaste while he read. Balthazar didn't seem to notice and took the other menu.

Once their drinks were brought to the table Balthazar went ahead and ordered a filet mignon cooked medium rare with a side salad. Castiel raised an eyebrow as the man ordered before he turned to the waiter and requested bacon cheese fries and side salad sans onions.

The meal went well, their discussions ranging from favorite memories and coming dangerously close to mentioning past relationships. They ended up playing some more games after eating, Balthazar wound up earning enough tickets to get Castiel a stuffed angel.

* * *

They made out in the front seat of the tiny BMW. The windows fogged up and Castiel wondered if this was what it was like when teenagers did this. He gasped when Balthazar latched on to his neck, his cock leaking precum from the man's manipulations. Castiel finally pushed Balthazar away, chuckling at the pout that formed.

"If we don't stop I'm gonna want to fuck you, and if we're gonna fuck it's not going to be in the front seat of a rental car," Castiel explained before placing a soft kiss on Balthazar's lips.

Balthazar nodded in understanding. "Well there _is_ a hotel right there, but if you think it's too much for a first date…" He let his voice trail off, staring into the bright blue eyes of his date.

* * *

Castiel stood at the window of their top floor room, watching the traffic below. It was 9 am and people were more than likely making their way to the beach to spend time with their families. He fought back the tears that filled his eyes. He was _not_ going to cry for this, because maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be like the other times.

He leaned into the body behind him as arms encircled his waist. They stared at each other's reflection in the window and a tear finally escaped. Balthazar turned him around and more tears fell. Blue became surrounded by red, blue sparkled from wetness, and blue became blue.

Dropping to his knees Balthazar held Castiel's hands in his, kissing the younger man's knuckles but never breaking eye contact. "What's wrong love? I didn't hurt you last night, did I? Oh God I did, didn't I? Well you have permission to kick me right now, right in the bollocks, as hard as you can."

Castiel shook his head, the corner of his lips turning up. "No, no you were perfect Balthazar. Everything was perfect. I just can't believe you would do all this; none of the others ever treated me like this. All I can hope for is that this isn't a dream. Tell me it's not a dream." His eyes were pleading to the man below him, his voice shaking as he spoke.

"No Castiel, this isn't a dream, but if it is I'm glad I could share it with you. What do you mean by 'none of the others'? Is this something –"

"It's nothing, just forget I said anything. Let's just go back to bed before we have to check out, okay?" The smile on Castiel's face grew a smidgen as Balthazar stood up. He saw the hurt that had flashed in the man's eyes. All he wanted was to keep this moment.

* * *

The drive back to Castiel's car was filled with silence, comfortable laced with tension. He just knew he'd ruined everything with his comment from earlier, but it was for the best anyway. Balthazar was too good for someone as broken as himself.

* * *

As Castiel got in his car Balthazar kissed him with the promise of calling him later. He just nodded and smiled. His drive back home was filled with tears; he had no reason to hold back now. He had finally learned that all he was good for was fucking, and this was his life from now on.

* * *

Later that evening his phone rang. Balthazar had actually called him back. Maybe Balthazar _was_ different from the others, or maybe he just wanted to prove Castiel wrong for some twisted reason. Castiel held on to the dream that it was the former.

* * *

It was four days after their date that Castiel found himself at Balthazar's house. A majority of the day, Castiel's birthday, had been spent together. Even though Balthazar hadn't gotten him anything, just spending time with the man was enough for him.

He spent the evening with his family, celebrating at his favorite restaurant. Anna was elated to see Castiel so happy. Even though she wasn't sure what had brought about the change, she had a feeling it had to do with why he was gone all night four days prior.

* * *

Later that week Castiel brought Balthazar to his house so he could meet Anna.

Anna was not impressed.

There was something about the man that just didn't sit well with her, but she kept her mouth closed about her concerns.

Castiel was happy, that was all that mattered.

She just had to keep telling herself that.

* * *

It was July 15th and they had been dating for nearly a month and a half. That night they had decided to go to the movies to see the new rom-com and then head back to Balthazar's afterwards. It was in the front seat of his steel blue pearl '04 Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder GTS that he proposed to Castiel. The band was tungsten and the inside was engraved with the date of their first date.

Castiel said yes.

* * *

When Anna found out the next day she lied and said she was happy for them.

Castiel was happy, that was all that mattered.

She just had to keep telling herself that.

* * *

Nearly a month later they moved in together. Anna nearly bit her tongue in half trying to keep quiet.

Castiel was happy, that was all that mattered.

She just had to keep telling herself that.

* * *

Edited on November 4, 2014


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Once again thanks to LoveYourself845. To those who have followed and made this a favorite, I thank you as well :D It really means a lot that people are actually reading this, so please keep it up! Also, this chapter is set up a bit different than previous chapters. It's just for the sake of moving things along though.**

**Trigger warnings for this chapter! Cutting, implied abuse and emotional manipulation.**

**Oh and this chapter is super-de-duper long, so apologies to those who are into short chapters. I was going to split it, but just couldn't find the right spot. So, um, sorry?**

**Anyway, on with the show!**

* * *

**Chapter Five  
No Joy, No Pain, But Silence  
**

Some people are great at hiding their emotions. Some people are great at keeping their feelings deep inside, where no one will find them. Some people forget that _they_ are meant to be happy. Some people are so broken they don't believe they deserve happiness.

* * *

**June '06**  
Castiel was huddled in on himself in the safety of their walk-in closet. Outside he could hear Balthazar yelling at him from somewhere in the house. Castiel hugged his knees to his chest, face buried in the softness of his gray sweatpants as he cried. He cried to the point of nearly hyperventilating. He stopped when he heard Balthazar enter the room, holding his breath as if it would make any difference. Balthazar knew this was where he hid when things got too intense. The closet was just big enough to make him feel protected. This was _his_ safety area; it was one of the few things in this God forsaking house that _was_ his!

The sound of a fist making contact with the door caused Castiel to jump; it was followed by the sound of footsteps growing fainter as the person walked out the room. He would give Balthazar two hours to calm down. Too bad he forgot his phone or anything that would help keep him entertained until then. All he needed was something to distract him from the thoughts running through his head. His mind was a dangerous place when he was left alone with it. It's surprising how true that saying is, the one about idle hands being the devil's playground. His playground was the size of fucking Central Park; the devil would be like a fat kid in a candy store when it came to Castiel.

Feeling emotionally drained and weary, Castiel stood up, unlocked the door, and peeked out just to make sure there was no one in the bedroom. Heaving a sigh of relief he cautiously stepped out and made a beeline for the bed. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget everything, because things were always better when he woke up. He would never forget and could never forgive Balthazar for all he'd done, but Balthazar wanted to forgive and forget – so Castiel faked it. Sinking down into the mattress of their king sized bed, Castiel made sure he was as far to the edge as possible.

* * *

The first year they were together was stressful to say the least. They argued, probably more than the usual couple would, but Castiel couldn't leave. The arguments weren't that big of a deal anyway, it was mostly them butting heads over differences of opinion. Castiel learned to keep his opinion to himself. He didn't like to argue.

So Castiel went and purchased a ring for Balthazar. The ring was silver with the heart shaped emoticon engraved on top. It was a reminder of how they had first met and of their love for each other.

That night they made love for the first time in months.

* * *

**December '05**  
Their first Christmas was eventful, just not in the best of ways. Balthazar wanted to fly up north to visit his parents; he wanted Castiel to come with him. Castiel wanted to stay and spend the holiday with Anna and Balthazar. Stuck at an impasse, Balthazar booked a one way ticket stating he didn't know when he'd be back.

He left on the 23rd.

Castiel curled up in front of the door crying, muttering apology after apology, as if Balthazar were there to hear them. It felt as if his insides had shattered, like the glass he had thrown before Balthazar had left. The pain was unbearable. He wished the shattered pieces inside of him would cut him as they fell.

Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut.

The word became a mantra as he got up off the floor, wiped his tears away with both hands, and staggered into the kitchen. The glass littered the floor, shining like diamonds on the tiles. Each shard was different, some large with jagged edges or small with sharp tips. Minuscule pieces were sprinkled, filling in the gaps; it reminded Castiel of a monotone mosaic.

He dropped to his knees, glass imbedding itself into his shins. He welcomed the pain, embraced it. He could handle this type of pain. It encouraged him to pick up the sharpest piece, it cheered him on as he held it up to the light, and it was pain that controlled his actions. Lying down on his left side he straightened his arm, staring at the veins visible under his porcelain skin. He imagined that skin covered in red and calm blanketed him. Resting his head on his upper arm, tiny pieces of glass collected in his hair and shone like glitter in his ebony locks. It was morbidly beautiful.

The first cut was superficial. The second cut brought drops of blood to the surface, goading him on. The third cut was made with more force, blood now coming more freely. The following cuts came lazily as the glass and his fingertips became coated in crimson, the symbolism of sin and love were not lost on him. All the pain he felt inside flowed out.

Peace washed over him. The emotional exertion started taking a toll and his motions stilled. The glass slipped from his fingers and landed in the small portion of red, becoming lost. The horizontal cut on his wrist began to clot at the cease of manipulation. Castiel drifted off to sleep; the glass beneath him became his bed. His dreams were filled with life and happiness, because that was what they were to him, nothing but a dream.

* * *

The beginning notes of "You and Me Song" woke him up late the next day. He hadn't moved the entire night, glass now pressed into his left arm, a crease from his arm imprinted on his cheek. He yelped as he got up off the floor, the glass not exactly welcome now that he was clear minded. Tip toeing carefully to the edge of the kitchen he stripped his clothes off and dropped them on the tiles, deciding to clean up the mess later.

His phone went off again, this time to the tune of "Bohemian Rhapsody." He ran around the kitchen counter, through the entry way and into the bedroom to his right, where his phone fell silent on the nightstand. Picking it up he saw he had five missed calls, eight text messages, and the time was after one o'clock. It was Christmas Eve and he'd slept over half the day away. All the text messages and four of the calls had been from Anna, each call accompanied by a voice mail. Balthazar had called once.

As he nursed his wounds he called Anna back to let her know that he was indeed alive and that he'd be there later tonight – alone.

Funny how moms have a way of knowing when they're needed most.

* * *

His time at home, his _real_ home, went uneventfully. Presents were giving; Castiel couldn't recall what he had received or what had been reserved for Balthazar. A large meal was prepared but all he could think of was the empty spot where his better half should be.

The fireworks went off at midnight on New Year's and there was no one to kiss.

It was on the 6th that his phone rang, the beginning guitar strums alerting him of the caller.

Castiel felt his whole body tremble as he answered the call, sitting in the chair at the far corner of his childhood bedroom. "Balthazar –" he coughed to clear out the shakiness of his voice. "Where are you? Is everything alright? Why haven't you –"

"I'm still at my parents, Cassie, and yes everything is alright. Why wouldn't it be?" Balthazar said, nonchalantly, as if he hadn't been gone for nearly two weeks. As if they hadn't had their biggest fight yet. "I tried to call when I got here, but you must have been sleeping the day away, so I figured you'd call when you were ready. When I didn't hear from you, well, I figured you still needed time to cool down."

"You've called ONCE in nearly two weeks. TWO WEEKS! What the fuck Balthazar? You couldn't have called on Christmas? You couldn't have called on New Year's at midnight? I just don't understand," he sighed, his voice having started out loud and strong, ending soft and weak.

"I was waiting for you to call, love, I wasn't ignoring you. I truly was waiting for you to cool down, but it appears I've made it worse haven't I? I'm sorry love, lesson learned." The voices in the background grow louder, most likely his family as he walked through the house. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be home this weekend, and that I do love you Castiel. I've missed you."

The call ended.

Castiel let the phone fall from his hand to his lap, staring down at it in disbelief. _"I do love you Castiel. I've missed you"_ played through his mind. Curling into a fetal position in the large overstuffed chair, he cried.

* * *

**June '06**  
Castiel woke to the warmth of the setting sun on his face. Groggy and still emotionally drained he sat up and looked around the room. It was filled with nothing but quiet and emptiness.

The sound of his feet patting against the hardwood floors echoed throughout the house as he searched. The two bottom floor bedrooms were empty. Ascending the stairs he checked the bedroom to his right – it too was empty. Balthazar knew there was one room that Castiel hated to go. Staring at the doorway at the end of the bridge, he took a deep breath and slowly walked across it, willing himself not to look over the sides. He had an unusual fear of heights; well fear of falling would make more sense, but both could go hand in hand.

Opening the door to the large bedroom that had been converted into an office for them both, Castiel found Balthazar at his corner of the room, the left hand side which had a window overlooking the front yard. The walls were decorated with framed awards and degrees, posters of various films, and some photos of them together. Castiel's favorite was the one above Balthazar's monitor; the two of them were staring into each other's eyes as the person took their photo. It had been taken on their anniversary.

Balthazar quickly minimized the program he'd been using and turned around at the sound of Castiel entering the room. He pulled Castiel onto his lap when the man was close enough, ruffling his already mussed up hair, followed by nuzzling his neck. Balthazar was in an unusually good mood in spite of the yelling that had taken place hours before, but this was normal for the older man. He was quick to forget any altercations they had and take on a cheery disposition, as if it would make it better for both parties involved. It might make _him_ better, but Castiel always felt the blows for weeks. By the time they faded it was time for more.

Kissing his fiancé, Castiel rested his head on Balthazar's shoulder, humming contently. Balthazar never knew Castiel faked forgiveness and it made life easier. If Balthazar thought things were better between them it would be one less argument they would have to have.

"I'm sorry for getting mad at you, I shouldn't have yelled, especially when I know how much you hate loud voices. I love you." Balthazar muttered into Castiel's neck, his lips like feathers on Castiel's neck.

Castiel felt his body relax into Balthazar's at the gesture. "It's okay Balthy; I shouldn't have pushed the issue or questioned you. You always have our best interests in mind. I love you too." He wrapped his arms around Balthazar's neck when he felt his body being lifted up. Balthazar carried him all the way to their bedroom, his left arm under Castiel's knees, his right arm supporting his back.

* * *

They fucked rough and hard. Balthazar took no notice of Castiel's lack of participation, but at least Balthazar was generous enough to make sure Castiel got off with a quick hand job.

Castiel couldn't say when it started to happen, but his interest in sex had been diminishing. Balthazar was always more than willing to initiate, and Castiel was more than willing to shoot the offer down. Times like these were always an exception. It was better to give in than risk another fight.

After some pillow talk Balthazar fell asleep. Castiel got out of bed, cringing at the feel of dried cum on his skin, and made his way to their en suite bathroom. He turned the water on to the highest heat. The heat eased his sore muscles and washed over the bruises that were beginning to show. He hadn't realized how rough Balthazar had been tonight. His stomach turned but he held it back.

Oh, how he wished he could just get up and leave, right now. Just leave. There was nothing stopping him from packing up his clothes and driving back home. Not one goddamn thing. So why was it that the idea brought on another wave of nausea?

Picking up his bath sponge he covered it in his favorite body wash and scrubbed. He scrubbed his already red skin raw. He scrubbed to rid himself of the hate he felt – the hate for the man sleeping in the other room and the hate toward himself. He loved Balthazar, it wasn't right for him to feel anything else. He continued to scrub until he noticed blood on the shower floor, watching it wash down the drain.

Dropping the sponge in defeat he turned the water off. Stepping out onto the bathmat he grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his waist. Footprints mixed with water and blood trailed into the bedroom and stopped at the bed. Castiel lay down on his side, ignoring the fact that he soaking the sheets through. He lay and stared at the face of the man beside him.

He knew that lying in this state of undress was probably going to act as an open invention to Balthazar. If he slept with one piece of clothing removed Balthazar would take it as Castiel wanting sex. Castiel only hoped that if Balthazar did, that he'd just do it without waking him. It's not like Castiel really cared anymore. His body was Balthazar's.

* * *

**April '06**  
They had been living together nearly eight months when Balthazar was offered a job in the western mountain region of North Carolina. Castiel was hesitant about being so far away from Anna, but decided to bite the bullet and told Balthazar he'd move with him. When he told Anna, well, she couldn't hold back her feelings any longer. She exploded, telling him that he was making the biggest mistake of his life. That Balthazar was an asshole and didn't deserve to be with him. Castiel cut her off with the slam of the front door as he left.

* * *

The U-Haul they rented was filled with 85% of Balthazar's belongings, which Castiel was okay with. Since he'd been living with Anna for so long before Balthazar, he really didn't have that much to begin with, and Balthazar already had most of the items they needed. He just knew their house was going to be perfect.

Their house.

Castiel grinned like a fool the rest of the way; he couldn't believe they were finally getting a place together. Sure they'd been living together, but it was Balthazar's place first and foremost. Now, now this was _theirs_.

* * *

The place was fucking gorgeous! Castiel stared, jaw dropped, at the two-story country style house. It must be a mistake. Maybe Balthazar got the address wrong. Maybe the stupid GPS got them lost. Maybe Balthazar _and_ the GPS were both bonkers. Because this – there was no way either of them could afford to live in a place like this.

As if reading his mind, Balthazar looked over at Castiel sheepishly. "My parents just _might_ have helped with the finances. We'll be paying the rent and all utilities, but yes, this is ours." Turning to face him, Balthazar grabbed his hands and kissed the knuckles. "Please tell me you like it."

Castiel looked between the house and Balthazar several times before Balthazar's last six words registered. "Oh, I don't like it." He smirked at the shocked expression on Balthazar's face. "I love it! I just can't believe – I mean – I just –" Castiel jerked his hands from Balthazar's grasp and got out of the U-Haul truck, rushing for the house. Balthazar got out and followed Castiel, hanging back to watch the younger man run up the steps to the porch.

The metal roof was a shade of red that fit into the scenery around it. Three windows were housed at even intervals, designating the three rooms that were surely on the second floor. The porch ran the length of the front of the house, six wooded pillars were held up by slabs of stones. Castiel was shocked by the fact that the front door was actually double doors. Pushing them open he nearly fainted at what he saw.

The cathedral ceiling was met half way up by a bridge. A fucking bridge! The kitchen to the left of the foyer was small in comparison to the rest of the house, but the large dining/living room more than made up for it. Under the bridge was an entry way on the left and right. The right, after opening all the doors, housed two bedrooms and a full bath. The bedroom facing the backyard actually had a door that opened to the porch. Turning around and rushing to the other entry way he found the master suite. The sound that came from his mouth he would deny later on, even if Balthazar had witnessed it. The chuckle from behind him let him know that Balthazar would never let it down.

Like the other bedroom, the master had a door that led out to the porch. Directly opposite that door was an opening that housed two walk-in closets, one of the left and right of him. Keeping straight was the master bath and Castiel spun around before running out to check the other door he saw. It only led to the laundry room, so he headed for the stairs. In his haste he slid across the hardwood floors, grasping the stair railing before slamming into the wall.

At the top of the stairs he turned right. The door to his right held a linen closet, the left a bathroom, and straight ahead was a bedroom that ran from the front to the back of the house. The window facing the front had a window seat and Castiel could imagine this being a library where he'd sit and read, right there.

Coming out he started making his way across the bridge carefully, forcing himself not to look down, just straight ahead. Reaching the end he opened the door. This room was the same as the last, but without a window seat, and the lack of bathroom and linen closet gave more space. Suddenly arms hugged him from behind and a kiss was placed on his head.

"C'mon, you haven't seen the best part." Balthazar held his hand and led him back across the bridge, down the stairs, and across the living room. Castiel took note of the fireplace in the far right corner. He was led out a set of double doors and onto a screened covered porch. The view took his breath away.

The trees clustered together appearing to be green and brown clouds. The trees were in the midst of growing their spring foliage. Just beyond them was a blend of rounded and sharp peaks, the sight took his breath away.

"Oh, Balthazar, I – I – oh I love it! I love you!" Spinning around he hugged the man behind him, kissing him with such force their teeth clicked together. They eventually got around to unpacking, but first they had to christen the back porch, the living room floor, the kitchen counter, and the master bath. The latter ended up being embarrassing when they realized they didn't have any clothes _or_ towels, but the feeling didn't last long when they took advantage of their state of undress.

* * *

**October '08**  
Castiel felt funny. His arms kept tingling and the urge to rub them wouldn't stop. When it appeared it wouldn't stop he called Anna in a panic. She advised him to contact a neurologist, just in case. It had been years since he'd been on any type of medication, but after an EEG picked up some activity, he was back on Lamictal.

Per the usual, once his dosage was settled and his body became adjusted to the medicine, he began to feel better. His mood improved and his waves of depression began to lessen. His feelings toward Balthazar grew more positive, and he began to argue less. Sure they still had their disagreements, but Castiel was less likely to egg him on.

Sex came back into the picture, but it was never normal. Or what Balthazar considered normal. Castiel just shrugged and said he'd try.

* * *

**January '10**  
Several months of taking his medicine he began to feel better and decided he didn't need it any longer.

Things got worse again.

They yelled and Balthazar lost would his temper. Castiel would hide. At some point they ended up having to switch to paper plates. Castiel had thrown all of their porcelain plates at a wall during a fit of anger. Balthazar lashed out and Castiel hid. Balthazar began to spend more time in the office and Castiel wandered the lower floor alone.

* * *

Castiel confided in Hannah, a co-worker he'd quickly befriended in the office he worked at. They talked about everything regarding the other's relationship, very little was kept from the other. It was after a night of arguing with Balthazar that Castiel told Hannah of his doubts in the relationship.

"Do you love him?" she asked, leaning against his desk, arms folded across her chest. She and Castiel had been friends for nearly two years now, but only a year ago had they started bringing up relationship troubles. Hannah herself was dealing with a troublesome fiancé, and she knew Castiel's answer would make her next move easier to choose.

He sighed and rubbed his hands across his face in frustration. "I don't know, Hanna," was the muffled reply from behind his hands. "I should though, I shouldn't be questioning it, but I just don't know!" His hands fell to his lap and when he looked up his eyes were already becoming rimmed with tears.

Hanna pulled Castiel into her arms and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back comfortingly. "You have to decide, Castiel. You can't just _stay_ in a loveless relationship. You deserve better." She felt him tense up under her touch and questioned it.

"It's nothing, just, someone said something similar to me a long time ago," he said with a weak smile. "Now tell me about you and Ion, are you too having doubts?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side, knowing the motion would always bring a smile to her face. And it did. She confessed to having doubts and feared that Ion was cheating on her. They talked through her problems, and it wasn't long after that that Hannah called off the engagement because of the reasons she feared.

Castiel prayed that he wouldn't have to go through the same circumstance.

* * *

It was during the passing week that Balthazar began to be more attentive to Castiel. It was like when they had first starting dating, when he was treated like the most treasured thing in life. Castiel didn't have to question his feelings for the man; he loved him and could never leave him.

* * *

**May '11**  
It was their 6th year anniversary. It was a day that Castiel would never forget. It was a day that Castiel _wanted_ to forget.

* * *

They had spent the entire day together, not really doing anything in particular, just spending some needed time with each other. Balthazar had been working late hours and by the time he got home Castiel was already asleep. The only time they saw each other was in passing each morning, but even then it was brief.

Each night a knot would form in his stomach, he hadn't felt it since Crowley had left him, when he knew something was wrong. He ignored it and shoved it deep down. Balthazar would never do such a thing. Balthazar loved him.

Staring into the blue eyes of the man above him he knew he was wrong to think that Balthazar would cheat on him. With a fake smile and a sigh he let Balthazar have his way with him. It was the least he could do since it had been nearly a month since they'd last had sex.

* * *

Castiel woke up to an empty bed. Looking at the clock on his bedside table he saw it was 1:17 in the morning. Stretching with a groan he made his way through the house half asleep. After searching the lower floor he headed up the stairs and stopped at the entry way on the right. The sound of Balthazar's voice came from the other side of the door, followed by a moan of pleasure. His hand froze over the door knob; maybe Balthazar was being courteous and jerking off upstairs instead of waking him up.

"Oh love, just like that. Yes, yes, oh I'm gonna cum!" Balthazar let out a deep throaty moan just as Castiel opened the door, wanting to witness Balthazar cum at the thought of him touching himself.

What Castiel didn't expect was for Balthazar to be holding a phone in one hand while his other was wrapped around his cock. He dropped the phone just as he came in his hand. The sound of another man moaning Balthazar's name could be heard. It was muffled from the way the phone landed on the floor but it was audible enough.

Balthazar scooped up the phone with his clean hand, telling the other person he'd call them back, before looking over at Castiel helplessly.

"I – I – I can't believe you! I just can't understand!" he screamed in pain as he turned and ran down the stairs. It wasn't long before Balthazar could be heard chasing after him, calling his name.

He pushed open the doors and ran down the steps from the porch to the lower deck; he stopped at the last set of steps and dropped down. His lungs burned as panic sat in, he couldn't catch his breath. He was hyperventilating.

A hand rubbed his back as someone sat down beside him. He wanted to push away and disappear but his body refused to work. So he let the body pull him closer and focused on calming himself down. It wasn't long before his breathing settled and he pushed Balthazar away.

"Don't act like that's going to make any of this okay, because things will NEVER be okay! I need to get away from you before I do something stupid," snapped Castiel. Standing up, he ran along the side of the house toward the front. Ducking into the kitchen to grab his keys, he jumped into his car and drove off.

_At least he waited until it wasn't technically our anniversary_, he thought as he sped aimlessly down winding roads, tears blinding him. Deep inside he hoped he'd just wreck and rid himself of this misery.

He wasn't that lucky.

* * *

Edited on November 5, 2014


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This chapter is crap. Just gonna be honest here, because I originally didn't want to do a chapter like this, but I heard a couple of songs and well... here we are. I was also rushed with this one because my boss has decided to give me the most fucked up schedule I've had in a long time. I'll be lucky if next chapter is out on time. Oie. Anyway, thanks to the new followers and LoveYourself845 because you're awesome ;)****  
**

* * *

**Chapter Six  
No One Knows What It's Like To Be The Bad Man**

**Balthazar's POV**

**March '11**  
Balthazar sat outside on the screened-in back porch, sipping his coffee, and rocking in one of the two chairs Castiel had recently purchased. He had already dressed for the day in a pair of black slacks and dress shoes, a white dress shirt which he had left untucked, and a black tweed jacket with silver buckles on the shoulder. The coffee and spring sun warmed him. He loved this time of year, especially in this region. Back home he'd be in two feet of snow, but here it had been pleasant and no snow had fallen quite yet. Though that wasn't to say it _wouldn't_ happen. The trees around the house were fighting for their right to bear foliage; the blindingly bright sun sent out its encouragement. A light breeze had him pulling his jacket closer to his slender muscular frame; he knew if Castiel found him out here he'd do nothing but nag and fuss. Luckily Castiel wouldn't be awake for another three hours. Luckily this gave him some time to relax before heading into work.

Finishing up the last drops of coffee in his mug he sat it down on the wooden planks of the porch and smiled up at the sky. A soft shade of azure blue, a shade of blue only seen this time of year, a shade of blue he thought only existed in the skies. Oh how he had been proven wrong a week ago.

* * *

The day had been more hectic than usual. People were rescheduling at the last minute, patients were showing up late, and other patients were showing up early and then becoming impatient. He was surprised he wasn't bald from all the hair pulling he had been doing. The only thing he wanted to do right now was get home. He just hoped that Castiel was in a reasonable mood. He couldn't take another fight over something they wouldn't remember an hour later, or at least _he _wouldn't. Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to never forget.

Grabbing the chart from the door, he knocked and entered before getting a response. He made a beeline for his chair, not looking up at his patient. His name was Adam Milligan, age 18, and had sustained a medial malleolus fracture several months ago during a car crash. Closing the chart he finally got a look at his patient, and God help him he was glad he was sitting down. The boy was perfect in every way; everything around him meant nothing at this moment, just as long as those blue eyes stayed on him. His hair was light brown with blonde highlights and looked as if he just ran some hair product through it and called it a day. The boy – Adam – had the most kissable lips he had ever seen. Naturally pink with a bottom lip that just begged to be tugged on, and at that moment that was all Balthazar wanted to do. Adam was slender and Balthazar didn't know if it was a façade or if there were actual muscles underneath all those layers of clothing.

A cough broke him out of his trance. It was then he realized he'd been staring at Adam for entirely too long to be considered professional. Gaining his composure he stood up and asked the standard questions as he took Adam's shoes and socks off. Placing his hands on each ankle he began to massage them as he asked about the accident, what he hoped to gain from today's visit and those in the near future. Adam's voice was deep, not as deep as Castiel's – Balthazar pushed that thought away – but deep enough to cause his cock to twitch. By the end of their hour long appointment Balthazar was painfully hard. He suggested Adam schedule an appointment for next week.

The whole ride home found him grinning like an idiot when he learned the boy had. Balthazar tried not to read too much into it, but his dick had other plans. He hoped Castiel wouldn't mind having sex tonight. God knows his hand wouldn't be enough.

* * *

It was during the last week of March when Balthazar asked Adam out for lunch, which just so happened to be at the end of their appointment. After some persuading Adam said yes, though it was with some reluctance. Balthazar knew Adam was bi and Adam knew Balthazar was engaged, so he assured Adam that this was just lunch between two friends.

Balthazar knew about Castiel's history and issues with trust, he wasn't going to let his attraction to a younger man – a boy – interfere with that. He also wasn't going to mention this fact to him because he knew it would lead to a fight. Jealousy and trust issues never were a good mix.

Not far from his office was a small diner that was always busy this time of day, but they managed to grab the only available table. A table which just so happened to be located in the back corner. After ordering their food they sat in uncomfortable silence.

Balthazar had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't a date, even though there was tension building around them. His dress shoes rubbed against Adam's sneakers – unintentionally of course – and soon Adam was rubbing his leg against Balthazar's, denim contrasting against wool. They both avoided making eye contact once their food arrived. Both knew this was wrong.

That didn't stop Balthazar from giving Adam his business card, his personal cell number on the back**.**

* * *

Through the day Balthazar let the guilt eat away at him, knowing that once he got home he would have to forget about everything that occurred. He couldn't let on that something had happened; Castiel had the nose of a blood hound when it came to shit like that.

That night while Balthazar was upstairs in the office, Castiel downstairs watching TV, his phone rang. He was surprised that Adam had called this soon and he didn't complain, though he groaned in frustration when Adam confessed to having forgotten to schedule an appointment for the following week. Balthazar said he'd handle it and with a "good night, see you next week" the call was over. He felt guilty for having wished the call had been more, but he didn't when he thought of Adam's voice.

* * *

**April '11**  
Balthazar and Adam continued to have their lunch dates after Adam's oh –so–conveniently scheduled appointments. It wasn't a surprise when the two started having lunch on days when Adam didn't have any reason to be nearby. It just became a thing they did – as friends, of course.

Soon it wasn't enough for the two and they started to meet later in the evening. Balthazar would call Castiel to tell him he'd be staying late at the office to do paperwork. He told himself that even though it was totally platonic, Castiel would be jealous.

So he lied.

He lied to spare Castiel's feelings, because Castiel wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand that Balthazar _could _be faithful when he was alone with a very attractive, very young, very kind hearted male. He wouldn't understand that Balthazar _could_ control his urges to rip the boy's clothes off at a moment's notice. No, Castiel just wouldn't understand, because Castiel didn't trust him.

Balthazar kept telling himself that as he looked down at the blonde haired boy on his knees in front of him. Balthazar had never given Castiel a reason _not_ to trust him, so why not make the best of those accusations. Any guilty feelings he may have felt were quickly eradicated as Adam brought him to what he _swears_ was the best orgasm of his life.

* * *

Adam knew this wasn't right.

He held Balthazar's hand in his, the silver band glinting in the sun. Balthazar never took it off – no matter what. They had stopped going out for lunch and now would rush off to Adam's place for a quickie. Balthazar didn't want to draw _too_ much attention by constantly coming home late. It was after one of their "sessions" that Balthazar began to talk about Castiel. About how much he loved him and that the knowledge of all this going on behind his back – well it would kill him.

That fact didn't set well with him so he subtly started pulling back from Balthazar. He'd make an excuse to cancel an afternoon date, he'd stop answering calls, not returning calls or replying to texts – just overall avoiding him. No matter what he felt for the older man it wasn't worth hurting someone else, especially if the person was as emotionally unstable as Balthazar said. If something were to happen to Castiel, he knew it would be his fault just as much as Balthazar's.

* * *

It wasn't long before Balthazar had had enough. Sure he wasn't much for communication, but this was bullshit and he couldn't for the life of him think of what could have happened to make Adam start avoiding him. That's what found him knocking on Adam's door, ready to confront him. What he saw when the door opened was heartbreaking.

Adam stood before him with dark bags under his eyes, his skin sickeningly pale, and his slender frame now gauntly. Balthazar felt his heart shatter as he gathered the boy in his arms. He couldn't understand why Adam had put himself through this torment.

Pulling back he kneeled before Adam, placing his hands on Adam's hips, taking note of the way the bones protruded from weight loss.

"Adam – Darling – I just – What happened? One day we're fine and then it's like a switch was flipped and you want nothing to do with me. I can tell you're hurting more than I am, so why? Why are you doing this to yourself? To us?"

The pain in Adam's eyes was laced with vindication and it cut through Balthazar's heart like a knife. This was it.

"I can't be the other person any more. It's not fair to Castiel, and if something were to happen to him because of us and this" – he gestured his hand between the two of them – "I couldn't live with myself. So please understand that I want to be with you, my God how I want to be with you, but the pain I feel doesn't compare to what he'll feel. You have to feel the same way. If you have a heart you'll feel the same way, and you'll leave. I'll always be here for you as a friend, but I can't be anything more than that – not anymore."

Wrenching himself away from Balthazar's tightening grasp he stepped back, wrapping his arms protectively around his body. "So please go, Balthazar, go before I change my mind… and just remember one thing." He deeply inhaled, his body visibly shaking as he held back the tears on the verge of streaming down his cheeks. "I will always care about you and nothing will ever change that."

Turning around he made his way to his room, trusting Balthazar not to follow him.

He broke down when he heard the click of the front door.

Down in the parking lot, in his car, Balthazar did the same.

* * *

**May '11**  
He never knew he could feel a pain like this. Adam had become like a drug to him, and the withdrawals were like a massacre to his heart. When he had met Castiel he thought he had found the true meaning of love, he had never felt that way with anyone before – until now. His feelings for Adam made what he felt for Castiel look like puppy love.

His days were spent staying at work for as long as possible, his nights avoiding Castiel. He just couldn't look at the man he had promised to marry, when his heart was being shared with another, albeit unevenly, but shared nonetheless.

* * *

Balthazar wasn't avoiding Castiel as much anymore, and though he still missed Adam, he decided to start mending his prior relationship. This is why he found himself curled up on the couch watching a movie on this particular Saturday night, the dark haired man stretched out with his head on Balthazar's lap. Balthazar ran his fingers through the silky strands, smiling with contentment at the feel of _home_ the whole scene brought about him. It wasn't long before the movie became ignored, Balthazar on top of Castiel grinding his hips against his. He couldn't remember the last time that Castiel had actually engaged in their love making, and he wasn't about to question it.

The tiny mewl from below him egged Balthazar on and he made quick work of their shirts, kissing and biting his way down Castiel's chest, following his treasure trail to stop at the top of his jeans. Balthazar groaned when he looked up and was met with lust filled eyes, pupils blown and rimmed with blue. With an aggravated snarl he got off of Castiel and shucked Castiel's pants off, taking his boxers with him. Dropping to his knees he took Castiel down all the way, tiny hairs tickling his nose as he deep throated his fiancé.

Castiel grabbed the arm rest behind him with one hand and thrust his hips up, but Balthazar took control of the situation and held his hips down. Placing his other hand on Balthazar's head Castiel dug in his fingers, lost in pure bliss he hadn't known in so long –

It was then that the sound of Balthazar's phone went off.

Keeping his fingers entangled in Balthazar's hair, he tightened his grip as he felt the man try to pull up, but Balthazar was still stronger and managed to escape. Castiel's cock slipped from his lips with a loud "pop" and Castiel groaned in exasperation when Balthazar winked at him.

"You better come back and finish what you started, or I'll finish without you!" Castiel screamed after him, hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it leisurely.

"Alright, alright, just let me get the bloody phone. Damn keep your pants on – oh wait."

He rolled his eyes as Castiel howled in laughter. He had forgotten how much fun Castiel could be when they were like this. "Would you be quiet in there so I can answer this thing? Fucking child… Hello? This better be bloody important because if not –"

"Balthazar?"

The world stopped.

Adam.

Why was Adam calling now? Out of all the times, he just had to call _now_!

"Balthazar, are you there?" Adam questioned hesitantly over the line.

"Balthy, are you coming back or do I have to finish what you started?!"

"Oh. I'm guessing that's Castiel. I'll just – I shouldn't have called." The hurt in Adam's voice brought Balthazar back to the present. Rushing outside to the porch he ignored Castiel calling him, blocking out the hurt and confusion that he knew was etched in each call of his name.

"Don't ever say that Adam. I'm glad you called; it was just a shock… I haven't heard from you in –"

"In two weeks, I know. I couldn't take it anymore, Bal, and well… Honestly I thought _you _would have called _me_, but when you didn't… Well, it doesn't matter anymore." Adam's voice had a mixture of sorrow, hope, and something else that Balthazar couldn't describe.

Balthazar could hear Castiel approaching the door and he really didn't want to deal with the two of them at the same time. "Meet me at our spot in the park, 20 minutes." He quickly hung up and swung open the door just as Castiel placed his hand on the door handle.

"I have to go."

* * *

Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his face in his hands. The look of hurt on Castiel's face as he ran out the house with barely any explanation made him feel like shit – hell lower than shit. But what choice did he have? He had just grabbed a shirt, it might have been his or Castiel's, and left.

He leaned into the comforting hand on his shoulder, having missed that touch more than he thought he would. Lifting his head and turning, he wrapped himself around Adam. This had to be a dream. This couldn't be real.

"It's not a dream Bal, and it most certainly is real. Damn, I've missed you so fucking much." Before Balthazar could question how Adam had become a damn mind reader he found his lips covered by the boys, and it didn't matter anymore. He had Adam, and Adam wanted him back. They would deal with all the details later because for right now, he just wanted to reacquaint himself with every inch of Adam's body.

* * *

It didn't take long before they were back to their old routine and it didn't take long before Balthazar was on the receiving end of Castiel's non-stop bitching. He found it odd that without Adam he had never noticed how much Castiel nagged; it was as if the boy opened his eyes to everything around him. That was just one of the many things he loved about the boy.

Yes, he loved him.

And today he was going to grow a pair and tell him.

Too bad he forgot to check a damn calendar.

* * *

Castiel exited the bathroom wearing a pair of faded jeans, navy blue tee that brought out the blue in his eyes, a pair of black Chucks, and a raised eyebrow at Balthazar. Balthazar was wearing something similar to his work outfit, but it was a Saturday, and Balthazar was off today.

"Are we going to different places today? Because I thought the whole idea of spending our anniversary together, was actually spending our anniversary _together_. So unless the 6th year anniversary gift has changed to the gift of absence, I'd like to know where you're going."

Balthazar rolled his eyes but he made sure Castiel didn't see it. God knows he didn't want to be castrated today, and the look he was getting right now made him want to hide any and all sharp objects in the house.

Pouting and drawing Castiel closer to him, he nuzzled the man's neck and explained that he had planned on doing something extravagant (lie). "I'll change if you just want hang out today, because really love, I don't mind." He thanked every deity when he saw the bomb become defused. He would live to see another day.

They ended up hanging around the house and grilling steaks for dinner, while enjoying the stars later in the night. Afterwards, Balthazar led Castiel to their room where they both worshiped each other. Balthazar made sure to wear Castiel out, and he counted the job a success when Castiel was asleep before midnight.

* * *

It was close to 12:30 when he called Adam from the upstairs bedroom. Adam had agreed to try having phone sex for the first time tonight, and even though Balthazar had wanted to confess his feelings, it would just have to take a back seat for now. They spent some time talking about how each other's day had been before getting down to business. Balthazar found it hard to believe that Adam had never done this before, because DAMN! He thought he was going to die from the torture, but then he thought he was going to die when the door opened and his heart dropped.

The look on Castiel's face was one he never wanted to see again. Too bad he'd see much worse through the summer.

* * *

**June '11**  
He hated Castiel.

He loved Castiel.

He just wanted Castiel to get over it!

Why couldn't Castiel just be… something that wasn't _this_!

He watched as the man sat on the couch staring at the blank TV, not moving. After confessing to everything involving Adam, Castiel had been pissed, but then he just… stopped. He barely ate, but he did manage to go to work with some coercing from Hannah. It pissed Balthazar off that Castiel acted like it was killing him. Castiel didn't trust himself so why be surprised when someone else turned out to be untrustworthy.

* * *

It was the night of the 15th. Castiel came home late from work when Adam called Balthazar. Watching him go into the bedroom with a bag, Balthazar stepped outside to talk with his boyfriend before dragging his ass inside to talk to Castiel about his day. After fifteen minutes on the phone he went inside to the quiet house, which was odd because usually the sound of some late night show would be on, even _if_ Castiel wasn't watching it.

Balthazar called out his name as he neared the room, hoping that he was in the shower, even though it wasn't logical since there was no water running. Calling out again he still didn't get a reply. Clinching the phone in his hand he entered the room, and it didn't matter how tightly he held it, because the phone instantly hit the floor.

"CASTIEL!"

* * *

Edited on November 7, 2014


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So I probably could have split this up... multiple times... but I didn't. Because honestly I'm ready for Castiel to get happy. So if you don't like long chapters, then um... this 10K chapter may not be for you. Sorry.**

**Trigger Warnings: _Self-harm - cutting using glass, burning. OD attempt - pills. Emotional abuse/manipulation - in my opinion (discretion is advised)._**

**Now, I'd to thank all those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed. I still find it hard to believe that people are actually reading this! So thank you from the bottom of my tiny, cold, beating heart. And special thanks to LoveYourself845 for reading bits and pieces of this chapter as I wrote it, and for being so encouraging. *HUGS***

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
Inside My Silent Asylum  
**

_Leave me out with the waste this is not what I do  
It's the wrong kind of place to be cheating on you  
It's the wrong time but she's pulling me through  
It's a small crime and I've got no excuse  
_

Castiel stared out the window of Balthazar's car, focusing mainly on the lyrics of the song playing in the background instead of the words spouting from the man's lips. He smirked at the happenstance of _this song_ playing at this _exact_ moment and it wasn't long before Balthazar caught on. With an angry jab to the controls, he turned the radio off.

"Wow, attacking inanimate objects now? I'm sure the radio _meant_ to play that _just_ to piss you off, didn't it Balthazar." Casting a side glance toward Balthazar he inwardly cringed at the look on the other man's face. He knew Balthazar would never hit him, but it didn't stop him from being overly cautious. Especially now.

Exasperated, Balthazar ran his hands over his face, wishing the man beside him would just _listen_ to him. But no, he just _had_ to be stubborn. He used to admire the trait, but at this moment he wished it would fuck off. Everything he was trying to say was hitting a brick wall.

"I understand you're upset but can we please go inside. You've barely eaten in four days and it's your –"

Castiel got out of the car and slammed the door so hard the windows rattled. Balthazar cringed and held back the expletives he wanted to yell out, but the last thing they needed was a bigger scene being made. At least he got the man out of the car; it was one step in the right direction.

* * *

Castiel glared at Balthazar as he sipped his water and nibbled on a french fry, Balthazar was eating a burger and acting as if nothing was wrong. Castiel wanted to kick him in the balls and storm out just to get some reaction out of the man, consequences be damned.

"Aren't you going to eat more?" Balthazar inquired with a raised eyebrow, setting his burger down. Castiel stared him defiantly in the eyes while violently tearing a fry in half with his teeth.

"No."

Balthazar frowned, perplexed and yet unfazed by the man's reaction. He also wasn't surprised when his begging resulted in a vulgar "no, now fuck off."

With a sigh he dropped the subject; worry flashing through his eyes so fast Castiel missed it entirely. Not that he would have given a damn anyway. Leaning back in his chair, Castiel watched all the happy couples around him. _Did we ever look like that_, he thought._  
_

_Give my gun away when it's loaded - Is that alright?  
If you don't shoot it how am I supposed to hold it - Is that alright?  
Is that alright with you?  
_

_Well, happy 28th birthday to me, _he wished himself.

Balthazar surely hadn't.

* * *

**June '11**  
After that every day became harder to get through. All Castiel could think about was Balthazar that night, the night his life should have just ended. The pain was becoming too intense and people at work were becoming impatient with him, but he was ashamed and kept it in. Not even Hannah knew. Hannah was happy now and didn't need to hear about his crappy love life. He didn't want to tell Anna because she would try and make him come back home to stay with her. And possibly kill Balthazar. No, he had to keep quiet and deal with this on his own. No matter what, no one would ever know.

* * *

There had been a time when Castiel went through a bout of insomnia, and instead of going to the doctor he decided to start taking a sleep aid. It _kind of_ helped, so he kept what was left over just in case the problem ever arose again. It stayed in the medicine cabinet wedged in between some pain relievers and vitamins; they were pretty easy to miss. Almost as easy as the night time pain relievers that were behind them. Castiel preferred them the most anyway.

* * *

It was a Saturday afternoon and Balthazar was preoccupied with… something. _Probably Adam related_, Castiel thought with a snort. Castiel had spent the better half of the afternoon being ignored and though he should have been used to it by now, this time it was different, it _felt_ different.

Sifting through the medicine cabinet he found the bottle of sleep aid he had been using. Gripping it tightly he ran into the living room, listening to make sure Balthazar was still distracted. When all he heard was Balthazar on the phone, _probably with Adam_, a tiny voice inside him said, he made a detour into the kitchen for a bottle of water, and headed back into the bedroom.

Settling under the sheets and comforter he stared at the bottle of pills before dropping it and opening the water. He then set it down and made quick work of the pill bottle, placing it beside the water. The two bottles stood together, taunting him, calling his bluff.

He was scared.

There was no denying it, not now anyway, but it would be too late soon enough.

Taking a deep, shaky breath he poured as many pills as he could into his hand, then washed them down with the bottle of water. Placing everything back on the table he straightened them once again before burrowing down under the comforter and falling asleep.

* * *

"Castiel! Castiel! CASTIEL!"

He groaned and muttered "shut the fuck up" into his pillow. He would have flipped the person off if he had the strength to lift his finger. He had been quite content sleeping in the warm, soft bed where all the bad things of the world didn't exist.

His dreams let him forget everything. He wanted to forget all the shit that had been going on, because _that_ had been a nightmare and he needed dreams now. He needed – a towel?

Castiel bolted up right in the bed, clothes and bed linens now completely soaked through. Standing to his left was a very pissed and very worried Balthazar holding a water pitcher in one hand, a phone in the other. Balthazar placed the pitcher on the table beside him as he told the person on the phone "he's awake, I'll call you later."

Castiel wiggled out from under the wet bed things, grimacing as the cold air in the house hit him. _He couldn't have used warm water could he_, Castiel thought.

"Good to know you felt the need to involve Adam in waking me up. I'm about to get some dry clothes on, you might want to call him back so you can involve him in my fashion choices," Castiel muttered as he staggered toward the linen closet for a towel. He really wanted to go back to sleep.

"Oh for Heaven's sake – Cas – " Balthazar grabbed his arm and steered him back toward the bed. "It wasn't Adam, it was your mum. And that's not important right now. No, right now you're gonna tell me how many fucking pills you took." He held Castiel down on the foot of the bed, the younger man struggling to escape.

"I don't have to tell you shit!"

Castiel managed to shove Balthazar away and started stripping at the linen closet. "And I'd like to get a fucking towel before I catch a cold, because _someone_ thought it'd be a brilliant idea to dump _COLD WATER_ on me!"

A few towels fell off the shelf at the force Castiel used to take one down. Castiel chose to ignore them and slammed the door. He squeaked as the towel he was preparing to dry his hair with disappeared, only to have it reappear – with hands – massaging his head.

"That's because your stupid ass wouldn't wake up! Now would you stay still so I can dry you off?" Balthazar moved down his body with the towel, his skin slowly warming under his surprisingly tender touch. "Are you going to tell me how many pills you took? I could call Anna back, but I know you wouldn't tell her anyway, so it wouldn't make much of a point. And you wouldn't want to worry her would you? So please…"

Castiel looked Balthazar in the eyes as the man stood; now drying his chest. He steeled his expression and pushed him away. How many times had he been doing this since they'd been together?

"I already told you, you pig headed ass, I don't have to tell you shit. Now leave me alone. You're an expert at ignoring me, go put it to use."

Turning around he could feel Balthazar roll his eyes. Castiel rolled his own in response. As he dressed in his closet he heard Balthazar rummaging around in the bathroom, the ruffling of a plastic bag being heard under the bang of the medicine cabinet door. It wasn't long before Balthazar passed him with a trash bag and a smug expression. Holding up the bag he waved it triumphantly.

"Since you won't talk to me, then I'm not giving you the option of doing shit like that again. No medicine is allowed in this house unless it's prescribed. Got a headache? Too fucking bad. Sniffles? Grab a box of tissues and tough it out. I know you Castiel, and I won't have you dying on me. Not if I can stop it."

Castiel followed Balthazar as he went outside to dump the bag in the garbage.

Poor deluded man, thinking he could outsmart a Milton. Leaning against the doorway the wheels began working, gears clicking. No one ever told Castiel what to do, especially so condescendingly.

_Screw you, Balthazar._

* * *

_It's no use, why should I hold on?  
It's been five years, don't need one more  
So goodbye, life's abuse  
_

He wondered if maybe he had meant for it to get this far as he lay in the hospital bed, the steady beep of the machine beside him making him want to throw it out the door. He had a feeling the nurse at his door probably wouldn't like that though and it might make things worse.

Deciding to make the best of the situation he settled in for a nap, because honestly there was nothing else to do. As he drifted off to the sound of the monitor all he could think was that this was Balthazar's fault. _Everything_ was Balthazar's fucking fault.

* * *

Castiel started having trouble sleeping.

Balthazar would stay up late and then get up early for work. He couldn't remember the last time they slept together, actually went to _sleep_ together. Balthazar had stopped propositioning him for sex; the fact was a minute tingling in the back of his brain. Castiel knew he was losing him. Now he couldn't sleep, and sleep was one thing he could at least control.

So one night Castiel went out to pick up some take-out food – Chinese to be exact. On the way to the restaurant he made a detour by the pharmacy to pick up a bottle of night time pain relievers. Balthazar wasn't going to stop him from doing what he wanted. After picking up the food he headed home, making sure to leave the bottle in the car when he took everything else inside. Balthazar wasn't the snooping type (that was Castiel's key trait) but it was better to be safe than sorry.

That night things were normal. Well, normal in their case. After dinner Balthazar thanked him for the lovely meal and Castiel scoffed as he was kissed on the cheek. Balthazar then made his way upstairs to the office. The only time he came down after that was to grab a drink or check on Castiel, as if he needed to be monitored. In between these "monitoring's" he slipped out to his car and took three pills. He'd already prepared to go to bed so he crawled under the comforter and waited.

* * *

He woke up the next morning not remembering having fallen asleep. That was something he could definitely get used to do.

* * *

It didn't take long before three just didn't cut it. He upped it to five, then seven, finally stopping at ten.

Ten was euphoric.

Ten was Zen.

Castiel snorted at his own joke and heaved himself up off the couch, staggering when his body became completely vertical. He had stopped taking the pills for the sake of sleeping. Now he took them to feel numb.

Gaining his bearings enough to become mobile, he stumbled in the direction of the bedroom. Once again he was destined to fall asleep alone, but he was numb. So he didn't care. At least, that's what he told himself.

That knowledge, along with the pills, made it easier for him to sleep at night.

* * *

June 15th, 2011

Castiel would never forget that day no matter what anyone told him. People forget birthdays, anniversaries, hell even some holidays, but this? No, forgetting this would never be an option.

* * *

"Please Balthazar, I promise it's not what you think. But honestly you left me with no other choice! I knew what you'd think if I brought them in the house, so just please understand – "

Castiel slid down the bathroom wall until he found himself sitting on the cold tiles, knees drawn to his chest, his right arm hugging his legs while he clinched his phone in the other. His face was flushed red, tears streaming and cooling his warm cheeks. He couldn't believe he had done something so stupid!

His car had been acting up so Balthazar had offered to take it to the shop by his office, so Castiel drove Balthazar's car to work. He didn't think about Balthazar cleaning out all the loose items before handing the car over. He didn't think about the bottle he had hidden under the driver's seat.

Now he was facing the consequences.

Balthazar drew in a sharp breath, releasing it slowly before speaking. "I did what I had to do last month for a reason, but I guess you just don't get it. So let me make it clear for you, because this is your final chance Castiel. If I find one more pill, _ONE MORE PILL_, then that's it. I'm gone. No matter what you think I still love you, and this is a difficult time, but I'm not going to stand by and watch you hurt yourself. I love you baby, and I'm not angry with you. Do you understand?"

His tone was like a yo-yo, stern – angry – sympathetic, then back again, but to Castiel it was beginning to mean that Balthazar cared. So he nodded, then realizing that Balthazar couldn't see him, whispered a soft "yes" followed by "I love you" and hung up. Standing up he stuffed his phone back in his pocket and went to the sink to clean up. His co-workers didn't need to see him looking like the shit he was.

* * *

The day went on.

Castiel focused on his work while keeping an eye on his phone, willing it to come to life with a text or call. He needed to know that Balthazar wasn't really angry with him, that he wasn't going to leave. An hour or so after lunch his phone buzzed, a text from Balthazar stating that he'd switched their cars out. Castiel's had had a minor hiccup but was running smoothly now. Relieved, yet still anxious, Castiel put his phone away, determined to not let the older man distract him any longer.

* * *

It was nearing five when Castiel called Balthazar; he was getting ready to leave for the day and wanted to make sure he didn't need to make a stop on the way in. Looking back it's hard to say what caused it.

The conversation was warm and loving, just like it would be between two people who loved each other, but then it wasn't. Castiel was once again in tears; Balthazar was yelling about something that Castiel had done. No one knew who hung up first.

Dropping the phone on the floor Castiel fell in his chair and fired his computer back to life, instantly heading to google once everything came on. Typing in the keywords and searching, he memorized as much as possible before shutting down his computer once again.

Everything ended tonight.

* * *

He drove around town aimlessly, letting his feelings of dejection swallow him whole, feeding the courage he needed now, and definitely later. Pulling into the parking lot of a pharmacy he rushed in and grabbed one of the bigger bottles of night time pain relievers as well as a package of antiemetic. The website had said they would be useful to help fight the body's natural reaction to the acetaminophen overdose.

With shaky hands he took the two items, plus a large bottle of water, to the checkout counter. He couldn't catch the cashiers gaze; she had to know what he had planned for tonight. Why else would someone buy this particular array of items?

Not even hearing the total he handed her his credit card, then muttered a reflexive "have a nice night" to her when he received his card and receipt. Rushing through the parking lot to his car he threw the bag to the passenger seat and sped off. He headed in a direction that wasn't home. He couldn't go there yet.

So he drove.

* * *

An hour later he pulled up in front of the house, head lights illuminating the place he'd grown to love over the years. The memories had started to fray and turn dark, but at the beginning they were brilliant and new, warm and full of life. Killing the lights and turning off the car he reached over and took the packages from the bag. Staring at them he muttered "now or never" and tore into them. Opening the bottle of water and setting it in the cup holder he started with the pain relievers first.

* * *

_What will I remember?  
What will I forget?  
When this life has ended and gone  
What will I regret; if tomorrow I don't wake up, what happens?  
My sunrise or sunset?  
_

Staring into the bottle of 100 gelcaps he swallowed down the knot in his throat. Bringing the bottle up to his lips he filled his mouth, then replaced the pill bottle with his water bottle and swallowed. Repeating the process until the bottle of pills was empty. He was already starting to feel woozy and nauseous so he went ahead and took the package of antiemetic. Packing everything back in the bag he headed inside, staggering over the gravel and nearly tripping over the steps.

_If I never were born, if I never died, would it even matter at all?  
What should I decide?  
I always imagined I'd mean something to someone  
If I won't, least I tried  
_

Castiel headed toward the bedroom, catching Balthazar's figure in his peripheral vision as he made his way to the back porch. Hurrying before Balthazar could turn around he ducked into the bedroom. At least he thought it was the bedroom._  
_

_When my body suffers, when to breathe is pain, is it really madness to sing?  
Think of breaking this chain, is the future my – god knows I have a past  
Where's my second chapter?  
Or will the first, also be my last?  
_

Dropping the bag on the floor he rushed in the direction of the bathroom, one arm wrapped protectively across his middle, the other stretched out to catch his balance.

He didn't make it.

Standing between the closets he vomited, his body shuttering violently from a combination of the drugs and the taste that was being left in his mouth. He wasn't sure how much he had actually managed to get rid of, but the effect was still there. Turning and stumbling to the bed he crawled under the comforter.

His body felt… weird. He didn't like it. He didn't like this feeling anymore.

His brain was foggy, almost as if sleep walking, though he'd never gone to sleep. At least not yet anyway. His limbs were starting to feel tingly; he could imagine hundreds of tiny little spiders crawling under his skin. The thought made his stomach lurch again. He thought this was what he took the antiemetic for! His stomach lurched again but he didn't have the strength to get out of bed, so he didn't._  
_

_Is my story over?  
If I fall asleep will anybody find me and will anybody weep?  
I can't even pretend I care, but songs I never sing, that mean's something  
Yes, that mean's something_

* * *

They were holding him down, but he just wanted to get up. All he wanted to do was sit up! Why wouldn't they let him just sit up?!

He screamed.

They were cutting his shirt, pressing him down harder. Why were they being so mean to him?

Why were they cutting his shirt?

"STOP CUTTING MY SHIRT!"

"Are you going to stay still?"

Castiel didn't know who asked the question but he figured it'd be a smart move to play along so …

"Yes."

The hands were gone, and he was up.

The hands were back, and he was screaming.

* * *

He sat up to see a set of double doors open. The humid, June night air made him cringe as it fought the nice cold air of wherever it was he'd been kept. Taking a quick glance around and squinting he realized he was at a hospital. He was in an ambulance, and they had just pulled up to the ER.

* * *

The first time Castiel woke up he felt like he had just been hit by a wrecking ball, ran over by a steam roller, then an 18-wheeler, the steam roller _AGAIN_, and then sat on by a sumo wrestler.

With a groan he sat up – well he tried but was met with some resistance. That's when he noticed the IV's stuck in his arm. As he followed the line to the bag he noticed something else – well _someone_ else.

"Mom, what are you doing here?"

Anna smiled, her eyes crinkled at the edges in a way that showed she wasn't entirely happy. There was sympathy there – pity, to be exact. Looking around he noticed Balthazar was there too, standing further away from the bed and leaning against the wall. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but there. The look said that if Anna weren't there, he'd be giving Castiel a piece of his mind. Castiel shivered and instantly grimaced as pain radiated through his head.

Forgetting the question, he lowered his head and Anna was at his side, running her fingers through his hair in a comforting motion. "Are you alright sweetie?"

"Yeah, just got a killer headache all of a sudden."

"I wonder why. It certainly couldn't have had anything do with all the seizures you suffered last night," Balthazar snarled, sarcasm dripping like venom.

Castiel flinched, and Anna glared at Balthazar while pushing the nurse's call button to request some medicine for Castiel's headache. It wasn't long after he got the medicine that he fell back asleep.

Anna moved in on Balthazar like a lioness protecting her cub.

* * *

The second time he woke up he was in a different room, alone. Well, not entirely alone. A nurse sat in the doorway doing a crossword puzzle, bored and unaware that he'd awoken. Not that it mattered since he was asleep a moment later.

* * *

The third time he woke up Anna was there. She sat beside the bed watching some home improvement show on HGTV (her new thing now), and jumped when Castiel groaned as he sat up. His body was stiff and sore and he wanted to get out of this damn place and go home. He must have said it a loud because Anna gave him that smile. It was the smile from earlier when he woke up the first time.

"What? What's going on? Am I not going home?" He knew he was panicking. If he had been hooked up to one of those heart monitor thingies it would be going off the charts.

Anna stood up and held him tight, rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down. Her voice was soft as she spoke, as if speaking to a frightened woodland creature. "Honey, right now the doctors are looking at two options for you. What you did, well it did a lot of damage to your liver."

Castiel stiffened under his mom's arms. He knew where this was going. "They're giving you some medicine to help make it better. If it doesn't work they're going to have to send you off to Duke. However, if it does work and your liver is saved, then they have to find a behavioral health hospital for you to stay.

At the moment you're under suicide watch until you leave. That nurse" she pointed over her shoulder to the nurse sitting in the doorway, the nurse who had been doing the crossword puzzle, "is here to keep an eye on you. If you try to do anything harmful to yourself, then she'll be here to stop it. We clear?"

"So let me get this straight." Castiel pushed his mother away from him so he could look her in the eye. "Either I end up possibly dying anyway or I get sent to the fu – freaking funny farm!" He couldn't believe that even at a time like this he still caught himself trying not to curse in front of his mom.

"Why couldn't I have just died, huh? Because honestly I don't like either of my options here."

"Well unfortunately those _are_ your only options and you have no control over which one is chosen. Deep down I hope you don't think that going to Duke is the better of the two, because honestly Castiel –", she broke off with a weary sigh and stepped further back. They both knew the words that were left unsaid.

"I'm going downstairs to grab a cup of coffee, want anything?" He nodded and asked for a Pepsi.

Just as Anna was stepping past the nurse he called out to her. She turned, eyebrow raised in question.

"Has Balthazar stopped by any since… you know?" He worried his lower lip with his teeth, suddenly self-conscious over the situation that had occurred… how many days ago had it been?

"Of course he has honey! Now let me go get our drinks, okay? I'll be right back."

He watched her scurry off.

His bullshit detector was going off the charts.

* * *

The next day Balthazar showed up.

Castiel looked up from the book he was reading when he walked in. Balthazar must have read the shock on Castiel's face, because he just rolled his eyes. The motion caused Castiel to want to hurl his book at the blonde's big head. He wondered if the nurse would turn a blind eye to it.

"What are you doing here? Adam's ass too sore so you figured you'd come grace me with your presence? Because if that's going to be your good deed for the day, then you can be dismissed or else it'll turn into cruelty against humanity. "

"Feisty today aren't we? I guess Adam picked a good today to convince to me to come in. It's taken him three days to do so, so just be happy I'm here at all." Balthazar smirked as he sat down, crossing his legs at the knee.

Castiel's knuckles turned white as he gripped his book tighter and tighter. He managed to get the words "Get. Out." through clenched teeth.

Balthazar glanced around the room before stopping to focus his attention on him, his smirk fading in hurt. "You mean me? You want me to get out? But I just got here Cassie!" He stood up and edged closer to the bed, but Castiel moved in the opposite direction.

"GET! OUT! If he has to tell you to come here, then don't come at all! You – You – You assbutt! Get the hell out of my room!"

By this point the nurse had run to get security and Balthazar was looking around the room panicked, worried that someone might think he tried to hurt Castiel. Castiel looked like he might be ready to star in the "Breaking News" segment as a homicidal maniac. A team of doctors and security personnel filed in, the doctors heading for Castiel while the security officers led Balthazar out. As he was being escorted out, Balthazar turned and said, just loud enough for Castiel to hear, "you crazy bastard."

That was enough to send Castiel off again, and he ended up being sedated.

When he woke up he was hooked up to a heart monitor, and yes, it was Balthazar's fault.

* * *

Two days later the doctors confirmed that his liver was stable.

That night he had a room reserved at a facility called The Elms Behavioral Health Hospital. He called Anna and she stopped by with some clothes for him, with the promise of bringing him more in the morning. She was staying in a hotel and only had a few articles of Castiel's clothing in the room, the rest were still in the house the two men shared. She would go back while Balthazar was at work and pack a suit case.

Once he was dressed Anna hugged him and he followed an officer outside to the car. The inside of the vehicle was freezing in comparison to outside. The smell of the car was familiar and oddly comforting – he couldn't place it.

The drive was long and quiet. He was glad to get out of the "hospital" just to escape the uneasy silence. Pulling up to the entrance, the officer led him inside and into the office for check-in. He was asked the standard questions and then escorted to his room, which he would be sharing with a roommate. Since it was so late at night they would let him sleep in and give him the tour and do introductions in the morning.

Once he was left alone, besides his sleeping roomie, he curled up on his bed and sobbed. He wanted to be home. He wanted to be with Balthazar.

* * *

The next day, and the days after that were filled with getting into the routine and getting to know the others in his ward. He found out there were three wards, each holding patients of different levels of different conditions. His ward was for those who were to be released very soon or didn't hold a big threat to those around them.

His roomie was quiet and stuck to himself, and Castiel never bothered him. He did overhear the doctors that came in the room one day say something about his liver, so it was either alcohol or pills.

Most of the people were pretty open about why they were there – depression and suicide attempts being the main reasons. It felt nice to be able to bond with others even if it was over something so… morbid?

His favorite moment at the Elms had to have been one night before lights out when a group of them played Apples to Apples. They started out following the rules, but by the end of the game they were using the most ridiculous answers they could think of. It made him almost want to stay… almost.

* * *

Anna visited on the designated days, sometimes Balthazar would join her. One particular day Balthazar came alone, which was surprising because he had made it perfectly clear that something like that would never happen.

_So I know I should of treated you better,  
but me and you were meant to last forever.  
So let me in (let me in) give me another chance (another chance)  
to really be your man.  
_

Castiel sat in one of the chairs of the lobby, Balthazar beside him holding his hand. Castiel was sobbing and a few people were looking in their direction, Balthazar looked a bit put off and embarrassed. He had just spent the better part of thirty minutes making a scene about not wanting Balthazar to leave him and how he'd do anything to keep him in his life. Balthazar had to take charge and calm Castiel down before he had another break down.

"Hey, hey, calm down Cassie, just calm down. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm never going to go anywhere. It's just you and me and when you get out of here, we're gonna start working on setting things straight." He smiled and nuzzled Castiel's neck, just behind his ear. Castiel purred and hiccupped as his sobs began to die down.

_Mmmm whatcha say  
Mmm that you only meant well?  
Well of course you did  
Mmm whatcha say  
Mmmm that it's all for the best?  
_

"What about Adam? Is he still going to be in the picture? Because Balthazar I can't do this if he's going to be around, you know I can't." Castiel's voice began to crack as the tears welled up again.

Balthazar mentally cursed himself and hugged him close. "Adam will be gone; it's just going to be us. When I leave here today I'm leaving him. So don't worry your pretty little head anymore, okay? Just please stop crying. It's killing me to see you so sad because of something I've done. I love you so much, Castiel Milton."

He leaned in and captured Castiel's lips before the man could retort. Their small audience cheered and Balthazar inwardly cheered himself.

Castiel ignorantly believed his words. A small spark in the back of his head told him it was bullshit. But ignorance was bliss. All he wanted was to be happy for a while.

_Whatchu say, whatchu say  
What did she say_

* * *

It was a week after his suicide attempt that he was released from the hospital.

_We will never forget, and no, we will not forgive.  
We've fought hard not to die, yet we don't know how to live.  
How do we change our world to what we want it to be?  
How do we move beyond all of this misery?  
_

Balthazar picked him up a couple of hours after his release and it probably would have been a better idea if Anna had done it.

No, Anna _should_ have done it.

_We waged a war with Hell, and look, we still survive,  
but just because we live does not meant that we're alive.  
_

Castiel didn't know which to be angrier over, the phone call or the awful sound coming from the car radio.

The moment they'd pulled out of the parking lot Balthazar's phone had rung. Castiel had caught a glimpse of the screen to see that it was Adam calling. It felt like a hot poker was being shoved through his stomach, because hadn't Balthazar said he was getting rid of Adam?

And what the hell was this shit they were listening to?! It certainly wasn't something Balthazar would listen to, that's for sure. Glowering in his seat Castiel leaned against the door, growling when Balthazar ended the call with "I love you."

Hearing the growl Balthazar turned to Castiel, annoyed. "I can't tell my mum I love her? Honestly Cassie I thought you were better, or maybe you just told them what they wanted to hear just to get out." He set his phone down only to have it snatched up by Castiel. "What the fuck? Give that back!"

"No, not until you stop lying. First, what the fuck are we listening to?" Castiel glared at the offending radio, nose wrinkled in disgust.

"It's a band Adam told me about, and I happen to like them."

"Oh really, because it doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard you listen to before." When they come to a stop sign on an empty stretch of road he ejected the CD and threw it out his window, smirking contently. "There that's better. Now, second question who the fu –"

"ARE YOU BLOODY MENTAL?! Why the fuck did you do that? You know what; I don't even want to know." Balthazar drove forward then pulled over and turned the car off. "Get out and go get it."

"Now who's the crazy one? There's no way in hell I'm going out there to get a fucking crappy CD. You want it, _you_ go it. I'm sitting right here until you answer my second question."

The set of his jaw and the way his arms were crossed across his chest told Balthazar he was serious so he turned the car back on and pulled back on to the road. "Fine, ask away," he said through clenched teeth, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

"Who the fuck just called you? I know it wasn't your mom, so don't bother lying to me."

"…Fine it was Adam."

Castiel exploded. "I thought you were leaving him?! What the hell Balthazar?! You tell me you're leaving him and then he fucking calls the day you get me from the hospital! I can't believe you, I honestly I can't, fucking, believe you!"

"I never told you I was leaving him you crazy fuck. I would never leave him. I love you dearly, but I could leave him. So don't put words in my mouth!"

The rest of the trip home was spent with Balthazar seething and wishing Adam would call back, while Castiel curled up in a ball sobbing.

_One foot in front of the other foot  
One foot in front of the other foot  
In front of the one…_

* * *

When they got home Castiel hoped he'd be able to return to work. He needed the distraction to get his mind off all the shit floating around his brain.

Too bad life sucks.

He was put on leave due to work place violence. He couldn't return until a therapist deemed him fit enough.

He hid in his closet and cried.

* * *

_I never saw her do it, I only saw the scars  
I never could imagine what would make her go that far.  
_

Castiel took up smoking, but not for the nicotine.

Placing the filtered tip between his pursed lips, he pressed his thumb down on the fork and using the tip of his finger he flicked the spark wheel causing the flame to shoot up from the jet and through the hole in the hood. Holding the tip of the cigarette over the flame he sucked in, watching the tip burn and glow. _That_ was his favorite part. Releasing the lighter and setting it down, he removed the cigarette from his lips and exhaled, smiling as he watched the tip glow in the darkness of the summer night.

He was sitting outside on the back porch; Balthazar had started bitching about no smoking in the house, and honestly he found solace out here anyway. Holding the cigarette between his middle finger and thumb he stretched his left arm out across his lap, letting the glow of the ember light his skin and target.

Finally deciding on a spot he lowered and pressed down on his flesh. Hissing, he threw his head back at the burn. When it became too much he pulled it away and took a drag of the cigarette. He repeated the process until the cigarette was gone, then went back inside.

_She was burning herself, her passion was her pain._

* * *

_Scratch my leg with a rusty nail, sadly it heals  
Color my hair but the dye grows out  
I can't seem to stay a fixed ideal  
_

"I think you and Adam should meet."

Castiel nearly choked on his water when Balthazar entered the room announcing such an asinine idea. Coughing and flinching away when Balthazar tried to rub his back, he finally squeaked out, "you can't be serious?!"

"Why not?" Balthazar questioned, brow furrowed. "I think you two would get along perfectly, and the two people I love the most should really get to know each other."

Castiel fixed another glass of water and made his way out of the kitchen. "I think _you_ should have spent time at the Elms, cause you are fucking insane."

* * *

Spending time alone in such a big house didn't do good things for Castiel. All he could think about was Balthazar.

What was Balthazar doing?

Who was Balthazar with?

What was Balthazar doing with whom?

It became too much.

He was surprised Balthazar didn't have his numbered block. Well, he probably would have if it hadn't been for the suicide attempt.

One point for being insane.

Castiel couldn't stop calling, couldn't stop texting. He was driving Balthazar berserk and finally Balthazar had had enough. He sat Castiel down to have a discussion about what he did during the day and what Castiel could do.

Castiel ended up crying in his closet.

* * *

**July '11**

He wasn't sure what brought it on, but it happened. There was a piece of glass lying on the floor, a huge piece, it was beautiful and it called to him. After picking it up he walked upstairs to the bedroom to the right and huddled in the corner by the window.

It was there that he went to work.

Castiel couldn't remember the last time he had cut, but oh the feeling! Fuck burning; this was what he had needed.

Digging in deep the first cut did a good bit of damage. He was going horizontal so all he risked as some more nasty scars. The second, third, and fourth cuts went deeper and deeper until he saw the light pinkish layer underneath. A mix of being petrified and exhilarated filled him; he had never cut that deep before!

But he stopped.

He hid the glass and ran downstairs to clean the cut before Balthazar got home; he knew he'd be yelled out if Balthazar ever found out.

* * *

_I hid my soiled hands behind my back  
Somewhere along the line, I must have gone off track with you  
Excuse me; I must have mistaken you for somebody else  
Somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself  
_

Maybe it was a trigger from cutting that morning. Maybe it was that damn medication they had him on. Whatever it was, Castiel felt it. He didn't know how to tell Balthazar, so the only solution was to text him.

**8:05pm  
I'm having bad thoughts again.  
**

He curled up under the comforter and cried, waiting for Balthazar to come and talk to him. He just needed to talk. Needed to get the thoughts out of his head.

* * *

"You're such an attention seeking whore. First you fucking cut yourself, now this shit!" Balthazar hurled his phone at the bed, hitting Castiel on the ankle. "Get over yourself Castiel and grow the fuck up." Yanking the phone off the bed he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Castiel ran and hid in the closet, wishing they owned a gun.

* * *

_Well in case you failed to notice, in case you failed to see  
This is my heart bleeding before you; this is me down on my knees  
And these foolish games are tearing me apart  
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart_

The sound of knocking woke him up. Looking around the room confused, he slowly remembered bits and pieces of what happened before he fell asleep. Staring at the door now, he was unsure of whether or not he wanted to open it.

"Please don't ignore me love. I'm sorry for how I reacted, it wasn't fair. I was just upset over what happened this afternoon and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Will you please let me in so we can talk? Please sweetie, I love you! Castiel please let me in!"

As Balthazar's voice became urgent Castiel hurried to open the door, swinging it open to face a shaken blue eyed, blonde haired Brit. Surging forward, Balthazar pulled Castiel into a tight embrace, whispering "I love you's" into his ear.

All was forgiven, but Balthazar had already called Anna.

* * *

Anna showed up a week later to take him back home with her. Balthazar couldn't take care of a 28 year old child and work at the same time (Castiel muttered "and have a boyfriend on the side") and if Balthazar heard he showed no sign of it.

Castiel pleaded and bargained, but it was useless, and he was soon making his way back to his childhood home, six hours away.

* * *

_My mind is black &amp; blue  
It keeps pictures of you, now I know why  
You moved away from here to another hemisphere  
Al I want to be is in your company  
I made a mixtape with all the songs that you hate  
Can't read your mind, I give up this time  
_

Castiel was going to go insane staying here. He was bored and pretty sure that Balthazar had blocked this number. Anna had taken out anything that could be considered "harmful" so the house was practically child-proof. Now he understood Balthazar's remark, even though he still resented it, because honestly he could take care of himself.

With a groan he flopped down on his bed, screamed out of boredom and began to cry. Whether from boredom or loneliness, it was hard to say, with Castiel the two were one in the same.

* * *

E-mail!

He had been there a week when the idea hit him, so he rushed for his laptop and logged into his account to e-mail Balthazar.

Fifty in one day wasn't excessive… was it?

* * *

Anna confiscated his laptop, cellphone, and placed a password on her computer.

Yeah, it turned out fifty was bordering on stalkerish.

* * *

Three weeks in and everyone decided that it would be okay for Castiel to go back and stay with Balthazar. It would soon be time for Castiel to start his therapy sessions and hopefully start back at work, so they had no other choice.

_All these things that you say  
Like I'll forget about the mind numbing games that you play  
I am a gentleman  
Didn't I pay for every laugh, every dime, every bit, every time, and then you feed me some line  
I won't hear one more word about changing  
_

Therapy sessions were boring.

Honestly, not much changed in two days. At least nothing interesting. They mainly spoke of how Castiel felt about going back to work, how his relationship with Balthazar was holding up, and if they'd be interested in doing a couple's session. Castiel wanted to, Balthazar didn't. So they didn't. He was taken off his current medication (Cymbalta) due to his increase in suicidal thoughts.

Castiel still didn't eat much, and Balthazar still got pissed off about it.

* * *

_Days pass and turn into weeks, when we don't even speak  
We just lay wide awake and pretend we're asleep  
You go home alone and you're checking your phone  
And you're looking at me like I'm something you own  
_

It was a cloudy afternoon and he had a headache, so Castiel had gone to lay down on the bed for a nap. When he woke up he went to the kitchen for some water and heard Balthazar on the phone. The tone of his voice… Castiel used to hear that when Balthazar would call him, but he couldn't remember the last time he had heard it.

Opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle, Balthazar turned around and smiled. "How's your headache? No, not you, I'm talking to Castiel." Balthazar's smile turned sheepish while Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Who else would you be talking to? Fucking dumbass teenager."

He stormed off, Balthazar totally oblivious to the fact.

* * *

_Hey you! Remember me? Remember love?  
Remember trying to stay together?  
My time, you took it all  
_

Castiel told Balthazar he wanted his help in working on their relationship, so he got out his book on BPD and headed for the bedroom. They lay on the bed, heads together, skimming over the pages. They were comparing the text to their relationship when the phone rang.

"Let it go, Balthy, if it's important they'll leave a message," Castiel looked into those piercing blue eyes, hoping that he was pulling off his best version of the "puppy dog eyes."

"I really have to get this Cassie, but I'll make it quick I promise!"

Castiel went to sleep alone that night.

* * *

_Why am I feeling so guilty?  
Why am I holding my breath?  
Worry about everyone but me, and I just keep losing myself  
Tell me it's nothing; try to convince me that I'm not drowning  
_

**August '11**  
It was a relief to finally return to work, because honestly a month and a half of doing nothing had been driving him insane! Everyone was happy to see him and glad to hear he was doing better. They all thought he had some issues with his liver… not too far from the truth. Hannah didn't know the full truth either, and if Castiel had his way he was going to keep it that way.

His main goal was to keep busy because busy equaled no deep thoughts. Boredom equaled deep thoughts which equaled depressed. So he had to keep busy.

Busy. Busy. Busy.

* * *

He had been at work for a week when Balthazar said they needed to talk. Instantly Castiel went on high alert, because talks were always bad. Balthazar reassured him it wasn't bad, but it was important.

He wanted to live with Adam for a while, just to see how they got along.

Castiel wanted to stuff a throw pillow up Adam's ass just to see how far it out fit. He tuned out Balthazar after that, fantasizing about Adam and the violent things he could do to him.

"I'll leave on the 15th, but I'll only be gone for a week, so don't worry too much, okay?" Balthazar ruffled Castiel's hair and smiled reassuringly, eyes surprisingly warm with love. Castiel narrowed his eyes warily.

"I don't trust this. I don't trust you, or him."

"You don't trust anything, so what does It matter."

"Exactly."

* * *

Balthazar was already packed, and this was their last night together because Castiel's intuition said it was, and it was batting a thousand so far.

Flitting around the room Castiel lit the tiny tea candles that decorated the room. Their favorite mix of patchouli and sage filled the room. He was going to make this night perfect.

_Turn down the lights, turn down the bed  
Turn down these voices inside my head  
Lay down with me, tell me no lies  
Just hold me close, don't patronize  
Don't patronize me  
_

Balthazar entered the room as the music started, shocked at the scene before him. Castiel couldn't blame him; it was a spur of the moment thing. Maybe it was his way of showing Balthazar what he'd be missing, maybe it was his way of showing Balthazar how much he did love him, maybe it was his way of convincing himself that he loved Balthazar.

Sidling over to him, Castiel began to unbutton Balthazar's white shirt, sliding his hands up Balthazar's chest and over his nipples, grinning at the sound of Balthazar's moans. Easing the shirt off Castiel leaned down and began to suck on Balthazar's left nipple. He moaned when Balthazar's fingers found their way through his hair, pulling him up and off the taught and tan nub.

_'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't  
You can't make your heart feel something it won't  
Here in the dark, in these final hours  
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power  
But you won't, no you won't  
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't  
_

Their lips crashed, their hips grinded, and their chests pressed together. This reminded Castiel of their first time together, funny that it would be their last. With a yelp he suddenly found slung over Balthazar's shoulder and looking at his fiancé's back, which was fine since it gave him the perfect chance to –

"HEY! No funny business back there mister, at least not until we're naked." Castiel let out another yelp when a hand smacked his ass. He then found himself on his back, bouncing on the bed. Balthazar wasn't far behind, tackling him and pressing him into the mattress.

_I'll close my eyes, then I won't see  
The love you don't feel when you're holding me  
Morning will come and I'll do what's right  
Just give me till then to give up this fight  
And I will give up this fight.  
_

It had been perfect.

The candles had long ago burnt out and Balthazar had fallen asleep shortly after. Now Castiel started at the ceiling, fighting back tears over the feelings he battled inside.

_'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't  
You can't make your heart feel something it won't  
Here in there dark, in these final hours  
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power  
But you won't, no you won't  
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't_

* * *

Balthazar left early the next morning. He stashed his suitcases in his car and headed to work, then to Adam's afterwards.

That was it.

Six years together now over.

* * *

Castiel went to work and tried to act as if everything was alright, but it was obvious that a black cloud was hanging over him. Hannah approached him, asking if everything was alright but all he could do was snap at her. He didn't want anyone's sympathy. He just wanted to wallow in his own self-pity until the pain finally went away. He refused to go back to cutting, and pills were no longer an option since the smell of acetaminophen turned his stomach.

He buried himself in his work and actually became more productive than ever before. Too bad he had become the office recluse. His manager sat down and talked to him about his attitude and Castiel had to stop himself from flipping the man off.

He was fine.

Really.

He was fine.

* * *

_Seasons bring truth  
When I found mine  
It was summertime  
_

**September '11**  
Three weeks had passed since Balthazar had moved out when a letter for him showed up in the mailbox. It was odd since Balthazar had been having his mail forwarded to his office. With a lackadaisical shrug Castiel opened the letter, then immediately shredded it to pieces.

That. Fucking. Son. Of A. Bitch!

The whole "trial run" had been orchestrated since before the cutting incident and Balthazar had been pretty busy since then. While Castiel had been shipped back to mommy dearest, Adam and Balthazar got to play house, and actually went looking for one!

Castiel had assumed Balthazar had gone to stay at Adam's apartment, but he assumed wrong. According to the paper's he had just read, they were in a "lovely ranch style home, the perfect 'first home' for any couple."

It was late that evening when Castiel finally collapsed on their – _his_ – bed, the house completely destroyed.

* * *

_I'm sleeping later and waking later  
I'm eating less and thinking more  
And how am I without you?  
Am I more myself or less myself?  
_

The click-click-click of the office keyboards were enough to lull him to sleep, and he probably would have if Hannah hadn't grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked. Before he could even start to shout at her, she already had him out of his chair and down the hall. After years of working together he knew that when she had her mind set on something, you might was well just shut the hell up and go with it. So shut up and go he did.

Technically their building was entirely smoke-free, but a small balcony was kept over from the days when smoking was acceptable. It was this balcony that Hannah shoved Castiel on. Of course, being Castiel, he latched on to Hannah like a spider monkey since they were on the sixth floor of their building. Having forgotten about Castiel's fear she quickly switched places, putting Castiel with his back against the wall, Hannah's against the railing.

"You're going to tell what's going on, and you're gonna tell me right the fuck now! And I don't wanna hear any excuses Castiel, because I've already talked with Uriel and he said to take as much time as I needed. So start talking, sweet cheeks." Leaning back against the railing she crossed her arms in front her chest, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles.

Castiel floundered for a moment, much to Hanna's amusement, before finding his voice. "SWEET CHEEKS?!"

"After all that the only thing that surprises you is 'sweet cheeks'? Geez Castiel, you're getting slow in your old age…. But I'm glad I could at least make you less sour puss-ish." She smiled cheekily at him and tilted her head to the side. "So tell me, what's got my blue eyes blue, huh?"

The lightness in the air quickly dissipated and they were once again left with Castiel's "roaming cloud of doom." With a heavy sigh, and refusing to look up from his shoes, Castiel began to tell Hannah everything… and that meant EVERYTHING. It took a few hours; they ended up leaving the balcony and grabbing lunch, which for Castiel meant a glass of water and a small salad.

By the end of his tale they found themselves sitting in the park underneath a large oak tree, listening to a group of toddlers playing nearby. Castiel had just finished telling her about the letter when he found himself with a lap full of Hannah. He didn't say anything. He didn't push her away. He just hugged her. They hugged each other, because for all these years, they'd never really given each other a hug like this before. It was the kind that says "I understand, and no matter what I'm going to be here for you to kick some dickhead's ass."

Castiel liked those kinds of hugs.

* * *

_I finally feel like I'm supposed to be, yeah, oh  
Don't you take this moment away from me  
But before you kill me won't you  
Won't you look back in my eyes and watch me  
_

**January '13**  
The past two years had been tiring, but Castiel had made it with the help of friends and family. It was hard at first, being single after 6 years of being in a relationship, but looking back at how he was in his early twenties; he knew he shouldn't go back down that path. He did have a little slip up when he got in contact with Crowley, who happened to live not far from him. It ended up with two one-night stands, and Castiel feeling heartbroken.

So it was too early for relationships. He needed to fix the problems he had already before he even thought about dragging someone else into them, he needed to learn how to be on his own anyway.

* * *

It was a beautiful winter morning, the type where the air is crisp and the sky is brilliant blue. Castiel was bundled up in a navy blue cable knit sweater and black slacks, while reading the paper at his desk. He was just about to turn the page that led to the wedding announcements (which he never read) when a hand yanked the paper from his.

"HEY! Hannah, give that back!" Jumping up from his chair he chased Hanna around the office, watching as she tore the newspaper while they ran. When she stopped abruptly, causing him to bump into her, she was placing the pieces into the paper shredder.

"What the… Was the news really that bad today? Because I'm pretty sure you're gonna need a bigger shredder to get every paper," he giggled as she rolled her eyes, throwing her arm over his shoulders and leading him back to their desks.

"Not necessarily _bad news,_ just boring news and no one wants to read boring news. So I figured I'd save you some time so you can play one of those mindless Facebook games that everyone else is playing."

He shoved her as hard as he could before heading back to his desk. The little brat was lying to him, but about what… Well, that was the question.

When he got to his desk he found Ingrid sitting in his chair, leaning back with her feet propped up. She had the paper open and was reading it with very deep interest. "Um… Ingrid? You do realize your desk is waaaaay over there right?" He motioned over to the far right hand corner of the office. "And not here? Because here is my desk. So go. Away. From my desk. Like now!"

She leaned her head back over the chair, smiling at him upside down. "Hi there Castiel! Did you see today's newspaper? Very interesting stuff going on today, now let's see..." She lifted the paper up above her head, humming some annoying pop song, while shifting her gaze across the pages. "Oh look! These cute couples just got engaged recently, and I think this couple in particular is just to die for! Don't you think so, Castiel?"

Shifting her body so that her feet were planted firmly on the ground and her head was held upright, she turned the paper toward him, pointing to the couple printed in black and white.

Castiel felt the world stop. Literally, the world stopped.

Balthazar and Adam were engaged.

No, they were supposed to be miserable. For all the shit they had done to him, they were supposed to be miserable!

Rushing past Ingrid he ran out the office and to his car. He ignored Hannah, who was threating Ingrid with something along the lines of shoving the offending newspaper into a certain orifice.

* * *

He didn't drive home.

He didn't drive anywhere in particular.

He just drove.

He sang along with Justin Furstenfeld and released all the pain he felt before it killed him.

_Bleed out  
I gave it all  
But you can't stop taking from me  
And way down I know  
You know where to cut me with your eyes closed_

* * *

Finishing the song he looked up to see he had, in fact, driven home. Getting out of his car he climbed the steps, unlocked the front door, and stepped inside.

Looking around the house he had lived in for seven years now, five with Balthazar, he realized that he didn't really like it, nor love it. It didn't mean anything to him. It was just a house.

Picking up his phone he sent a quick text to his mom and put some plans into action.

He was going home.

And he might have been a fool for love once, but never again.

* * *

Edited November 15, 2014


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight  
If It's Your Decision to Be Open about Yourself, Be Careful or Else**

**Author's Notes  
**

First I'd like to start off by defining the three conditions that are listed in chapter 3.

**Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)** also called emotionally unstable personality disorder, emotional intensity disorder, or borderline type: this cluster-B personality disorder, with the essential feature which is a pattern of marked impulsivity and instability of affects, interpersonal relationships and self-image. This is according the American Psychiatric Associaton.

**Dysthymia** also called neurotic depression, dysthymic disorder, or chronic depression: this mood disorder consists of the same cognitive and physical problems as depression, with less severe but longer-lasting symptoms.

**Attention Deficit Disorder** also called ADHD predominantly inattentive type (ADHD-PI): symptoms include being easily distracted, forgetful, daydreaming, disorganization, poor concentration, and difficulty completing tasks.

Now I'm going to focus on mainly addressing BPD just because it's played a large part so far and will continue to as our story goes on.

The symptoms of BPD are:

1\. Makes desperate attempts to avoid abandonment.  
\- This is shown in chapters 3, 5, and 7. In chapter 7 Castiel uses all kinds of tactics to keep Balthazar from leaving.

2\. Has unstable and intense relationships, usually involving alternately idealizing then devaluing the other person.  
\- Castiel's relationship with Crowley could fall into this category, but it wouldn't be to an extreme. Balthazar and Castiel… does it really need to be asked?

3\. Sense of self or self-image is chronically unstable.  
\- Castiel never thinks he's good enough which can play into symptoms 1, 2, 6, and 7. Because if you feel like you're shit, then you're going to question why your partner is with you. If you feel like you could be on the cover of a fashion mag, then you may question if you should be with your partner. A very vicious cycle.

4\. Acts on impulse in ways that can be self-damaging (for example, over spending, overeating, acting out sexually, abusing drugs.)  
\- Castiel couldn't have had a thing for retail therapy could he? Well at least he learned his lesson and no more sleeping around for him….

5\. Makes frequent suicidal gestures or threats, or injures himself/herself.  
\- Pretty obvious.

6\. Has a highly unstable mood (for example, gets depressed, irritable, or anxious for brief periods).  
\- This probably wasn't shown very much, but chapter 7 would probably have examples if there were any.

7\. Chronically experiences feelings of emptiness.  
\- Anytime Castiel was left alone or felt ignored he felt this way.

8\. Is easily provoked to anger or rage.  
\- Um… Just about every scene between Castiel and Balthazar in chapter 7. I'm serious!

9\. Under stress, can become paranoid or experience dissociative symptoms.  
\- *throws arms up in the air*CHAPTER 7! - I mean, pretty much every page shows Castiel being paranoid about Balthazar.

Like other mental disorders the causes of BPD are complex and not 100% agreed upon. It is suggested that PTSD may be related to BPD in some way, and researchers agree that a history of childhood trauma can be a contributing factor. Genetics, social factors, as well as psychological factors may contribute different parts to the disorder.

Oddly enough, there is no medicine to treat the disorder as a whole. There are a limited amount of medications that can treat everything but the feelings of emptiness and abandonment. Though to be honest, how would you fix the feeling of abandonment?

BPD, which also shares its letters with Bipolar Disorder, is often confused for the other disorder. I think it has to do with the unstable moods in the two of them. Oddly enough, they do share common medication treatments, though their used to treat different things in each one.

* * *

I've been wary about answering comments before now because I didn't want to say something that I'd be discussing here, so I'd like to better answer, or just plain answer, those comments now.

**Chapter 06  
AO3**  
suluvmanga: okay, so here's my long ass author's note, and this is going to be very awkward. Basically in this fic Balthazar is my ex-husband, and while it would have been easy to show him doing all these creepy, heartless things, I felt that that was unfair.

Yes, Balthazar knew about Castiel's history which is why he fought it, but how many of us have fought and finally given in to temptation, consequences be damned. Could he have gone about things differently?

Yes.

**Chapter 07  
FanFiction**  
guest: wow, I suppose I should say I'm honored that I made you cry :D or :( I'm not sure which… but yes he does deserve better, and he will get better very soon!

Omorfia Giapoon: for me cheaters have their very own special place in Hell. Just saying.

**AO3**  
suluvmanga: as I had commented he should have kicked his ass to the curb, but I think with his fear of abandonment, it would have been impossible. No matter how much he was hurting he could never just leave. Now as far as Balthazar not having the necessary empathy, we have to remember this is from Castiel's POV.

According to Wikipedia, "people with BPD are especially prone to dysphoria, or feelings of mental and emotional distress. There are four categories of dysphoria that are typical to this condition: extreme emotions; destructiveness or self-destructiveness; feelings fragmented or lacking identity; and feelings of victimization. Within these categories, a BPD diagnosis is strongly associated with a combination of three specific states: 1) feeling betrayed, 2) 'feeling like hurting myself' and 3) feeling out control."

Now, that isn't to say that Balthazar didn't yell at Castiel or become short with him, that Balthazar said things Castiel wanted to hear, or that Balthazar was an overall douche to Castiel, but it may have been over exaggerated in Castiel's mind. It's really hard to say – stress does funny things to the mind.

As far as Anna and Cas, sure she could have tried (and I will go more into that later on) but Cas is a stubborn son of a bitch and he wouldn't have given in, and she knew it.

Why Balthazar slept with Castiel? Oie that's a tough one… honestly I have no idea. It could have been the same reason that Castiel offered to sleep with him. It could have been him being a selfish dick and wanting a piece of ass (hahahaha see what I did there?), but I doubt Balthazar will ever say and honestly there are guys like that. They know that it kills the other person to not know the answer to "why" so they never answer… or perhaps they themselves don't know the answer.

* * *

Those who have decided to continue to read, I thank you and will pay you in hugs and cookies and porn (if legal).

XOXOXOXO

Also, all information regarding the mental illnesses mentioned have been obtained from Wikipedia and "New Hope For People With Borderline Personality Disorder" by Neil R. Bockian, Ph. D., with Valerie Poor, M.A., and Bora Elizabeth Villagran, M.A. This book is my _favorite_! It has so much information, and though outdated (it was published in 2002) it has lots of examples of real life situations to make it easy to relate to those with BPD.

* * *

Edited November 8, 2014


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, no angst! This is really new to me.**

**If you're still reading this, I thank you. I hope this doesn't disappoint, and it's not to overwhelming. Lots of people introduced and a totally different Castiel. So, I hope no one's disappointed!**

**Once again, thanks for all the comments, follows, and favorites. I *hearts* you all!**

**Also, because someone commented on AO3 - when Dean calls Cas "kid" he's using it as a term of endearment. Sure I like to think Cas looks younger in this fic (I have a pic on Pinterest - PM me for link), but it's not like that. Another thing, Cas is 31. Dean and Lisa are 36.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
They Say an End Can Be a Start  
**

**October '14**

_"Good Morning. Today's forecast calls for blue skies."  
_

Castiel picked his phone up off the bedside table and tossed it across the room. It landed with a light "thump" on the carpet and the opening notes, a muffled mixture of drums, violin, cello, keyboard, and bass, continued to play.

_Sun is shinin' in the sky  
There ain't a cloud in sight  
It's stopped rainin' everybody's in a play  
And don't you know  
It's a beautiful new day hey, hey  
_

He groaned, burrowing his head under his pillow to stifle the music a bit more, as well as hide his face from the sun that crept through the cracks in his blinds. _'Room darkening' my ass,_ he thought. He had bought the cheap pieces of crap on clearance at Wal-Mart and unless the day was rainy or overcast, he woke up to very unwelcome rays of sunshine in his face… as well as that annoying song blaring from his phone.

He was surprised his phone hadn't bitten the dust by now, since it had hit the wall three out of the fourteen times he had thrown it. He could fix both problems, but he was lazy, and would honestly forget about them until the next morning when he didn't have the time to do anything about it.

Jerking the pillow up and flinging it over the opposite side of the bed, he heaved himself up to a sitting position, emitting another groan at the sound of bones popping. Wiggling his toes in the soft carpet below he stretched his arms upward and finally made an effort to stand up. This was met with an even bigger stretch, one which had him standing on his tip toes, fingers not quite grazing the ceiling. The sound of more bones popping gave him more joy than it really should, mainly because of the fact that the sound would drive Balthazar insane, so he never got to really _enjoy_ popping his joints. But now… now he spent _way_ too much time doing it.

After making sure he'd gotten every last achy, tense joint loosened, he walked over to pick up the phone which was still playing.

_Hey there, Mister Blue  
We're so pleased to be with you  
Look around see what you do  
Everybody smiles at you  
_

Rolling his eyes at the last verse, he swiped his finger across the screen to dismiss the alarm. Taking the phone with him to the en suite bathroom, something he was glad his new apartment had, he sat his phone on the sink and started up the shower. He set the water to that perfect mixture of hot and cold, with a bit of extra cold to wake him up. The bathroom was decorated in neutral colors and the only thing that made it his own was the black 221b Baker Street shower curtain he had purchased shortly after his roommate had gotten him addicted to Sherlock. As the water adjusted Castiel brushed his teeth, and then decided to hold off on shaving, his stubble wasn't _too_ _bad_ today. Shedding his pajama bottoms, which he wore sans boxers, he stepped under the spray of water and was instantly alert.

Just what he needed!

* * *

Castiel exited his room dressed cozily in form fitting denim, an oversized chocolate brown sweater, and brown combat boots, loosely tied. He continued to run his towel over his hair as he walked the hall between his and his roommates room, making sure his hair was dry enough to not drip down his back. Coming to the end of the hallway which opened to the living area, he saw his roommates 5'8'' form slumped over their dining room table, busily typing away on his laptop.

* * *

When Castiel had decided to go back to college, all he had was what little money he had saved from his job. So he had dug up what he little had left of his dignity and called Balthazar.

They talked for a couple of weeks, the conversation going back and forth between them and Balthazar's parents, before _finally_ landing on a decision. They sold the house, and every last thing in it. His parents, of course, wanted their cut, so the money was split accordingly. With his portion, Castiel decided to use his saved money for an apartment, and the "earned" money for college. He knew he'd eventually have to do loans, so he got a part-time job at a coffee shop five miles from the apartment.

The apartment complex he ended up settling with was affordable and close enough – one mile from campus – came fully furnished and included a roommate matching service. The furnishings were okay enough, well except for the blinds in his room, but he couldn't complain too much. It saved him more money, right?

His favorite thing about the entire housing complex was the roommate service, because honestly, he couldn't have done better himself.

Kevin Tran was 19, a sophomore majoring in language studies and minoring in religious studies. While Castiel had always, and now even more so, been a night owl, Kevin put him to shame. The kid went _past_ night owl and just didn't bother going to sleep; his record was going over three days without sleep. Castiel had finally lured the boy, that was 12 years his junior, off to the boy's bedroom to sleep. The boy crashed for nearly the whole day. He didn't speak to Castiel for two days. It was then that Castiel knew they'd get along perfectly.

* * *

Of course at this moment he wanted to smack the boy on the back of the head. Castiel had gone to bed around 3ish, Kevin had promised he'd be heading to bed soon. It was now a quarter to eight. Walking behind him Castiel stopped and leaned in toward his ear, "Kevin, you know that _thing_ we discussed… what ever happened to it!"

The shock of Castiel having snuck up on him should have sent the kid into cardiac arrest, the yelling bit at the end though – that didn't help. Kevin jumped, and if Castiel hadn't already moved away he would have gotten his chin rammed by the top of Kevin's head. This action nearly sent Kevin's coffee cup spilling across his laptop and Castiel had to wonder how many cups of coffee the kid had had, and if there was any more coffee left?

As if reading his mind Kevin pointed in the direction of the tiny kitchen to their right, the smell of fresh coffee wafting toward them. Forgetting all about his qualms with Kevin, Castiel made his way excitedly toward the caffeinated brew. Granted it wasn't as good as the kind at the coffee shops, but he didn't have time to get there. And it was free. So Castiel didn't complain _too_ much.

Rolling his eyes, Kevin stood up, and after making sure he backed everything up, he shut his laptop down and followed Castiel into the kitchen. Kevin _knew_ he looked like he just walked off the set of _The Walking Dead_, his black spiky hair now disheveled – and not in the sexy way. His large child-like black eyes were heavy with under eye bags, and his natural tan skin tone had now taken on a slightly paler complexion.

"Yes, I know what we discussed, but I got a bit distracted. And besides, Mr. Pot, when are you finally gonna go to sleep at a decent hour, huh? At least my body knows what to expect, yours is on a constant roller coaster ride. I'm still amazed at the way you manage to function."

Castiel smirked and poured some coffee into a thermos, making sure to pour enough cream and sugar to take the edge off the bitterness. "Yeah, yeah, I know. If it starts to become _too_ much of a problem I'll look into getting some help, okay? But until then, you go to bed or the laptop comes with me!"

All Kevin could do was scoff as Castiel walked past him, snatched up his backpack, wallet, and keys, and made his way out the door.

* * *

Castiel ran down three flights of stairs and to the bus stop, leaning against the sign post just in time to see the shuttle pull up. Sure he could walk the mile to campus, but that didn't include the walking distance to the building he needed, which the shuttle bus could take him to in half the time.

The ride was quiet. All of the students aboard were like Kevin, twelve or more years younger than him and obviously not morning people. Not that he minded, he wasn't much of one either, and the quiet gave him time to think.

He tried not to delve too deep into questioning things that had happened in the past, something he had a habit of doing since he had moved. College and Kevin kept him distracted for the most part; it was partially why he started getting less and less sleep. Sleep led to dreams, dreams led to memories, memories led to bad thoughts. Kevin didn't need to see that side of him, so Castiel started to sleep less and less over the fourteen months they had known each other. But he didn't tell Kevin that. He doubted that Kevin had even noticed the gradual change in his sleeping pattern up until recently.

* * *

He hadn't noticed he had fallen asleep until the shuttle bus came to an abrupt stop, sending his head, which had been pressed against the window, forward and jerking him awake. Quickly gathering his things and looking around, he let out a sigh of relief that no one had noticed his little slip up. Perhaps these past few nights of three – four hours of sleep were taking a toll on him. Or perhaps it was Kevin's words getting to him – yeah, that had to be it.

Nodding to himself he followed a girl with blue spiked hair and piercings to Bartlett Hall. He would be early for his Psychology of Personality class, but it would give him ample time to study. Something he just _might_ have faked doing last night.

* * *

The large university library was his home away from home; it was easier to concentrate on studying here. At the apartment he would be all over the place, finding things that needed to be done instead of what was actually important. If it weren't for the library he'd be out the obscene amount of money these past semesters had cost him and back home with his mom.

It would be a blow his 31-year old ego wouldn't be able to handle.

Going cross eyed from staring at his psychology book too long, he switched over to his precalc book. At least he wouldn't be looking at words very much, and by the time the numbers got blurry it would be time to leave to get ready for work.

* * *

He wasn't too far off.

By the time he ran through the doors of Shot in the Dark it was three on the dot. His hair was freshly washed, but not as dried as he would have liked. His black long-sleeve button down was slightly rumbled from the fight he had gotten into with his car. His slacks weren't any better. He was just glad they were black since he was pretty sure they had oil stains somewhere – though he wasn't sure _how_ they got there.

* * *

Shot in the Dark had started out as an old abandoned two-story brick building, chunks of mortar visible here and there, giving the building "character" as Lisa Winchester as put it.

The top floor had three windows trimmed in a purple that Castiel was told was "KSU purple." He had just nodded. The main floor had two large windows trimmed like the ones above them. In between them were glass French doors trimmed with silver. A metal, rectangular sign, in black and "KSU purple" hung between the floors with the name of the establishment in simple lettering.

The interior was always what captivated Castiel to this day. Distressed, dark walnut, hardwood floors and the exposed brick walls certainly went with the "neglected" theme Lisa was had gone for, but that's where it ended.

The common area was scattered with oversized, chocolate leather chairs that had dark walnut arms and legs. There were tables and stools in matching wood colorings as well.

From the walls hung string lights mainly focusing on 26x33 black and white framed photos. No one knew who took the pictures of abandoned buildings from around town. The only clue people got was the person worked there. The counter tops that customers ordered and picked up from were made of laminate that were almost black. Above the entry to the kitchen were a set of stairs that led upstairs to Lisa's office.

* * *

Castiel ducked underneath the counter, wheezing as he struggled to breathe, and staggered forward. Giving into fate he sat down and leaned against the cabinets, just as Lisa came from the kitchen. Her brow furrowed in worry as she spotted her star employee. Castiel was always on time, sometimes even _early_, patient, kind, and put together. The Castiel before her was well, for lack of a better word, a mess!

Kneeling down in front of him, to which quickly turned into her sitting down, she wrapped her arms around him. The man immediately broke down at the warm, loving touch. He hadn't been held like that in months, and to have someone hold him without expecting something in return… well, it was a relief.

Lisa had always been the motherly type, and even though she was only five years older than him, she made him feel like he was back in his teens. Maybe it was the warmth in her chocolate brown eyes, or the way she always casually dressed, yet in a professional manner. Or maybe it was the way she never talked down to anyone even when the fucked up. She wasn't above anyone, and never made any indication of thinking it.

He hid his face in her shoulder, his body convulsing with the force of his tears.

When was the last time he'd cried?

Had it really been that long?

Wow...

Another wave of tears came along with the realization. Without any self-control he hugged Lisa and held on for dear life. They ignored the fact they were surrounded by other employees, and that customers were giving them strange looks.

Lisa held onto the younger man until his sobs turned into hiccups. Satisfied, she untangled herself, stood up and extended her hand. With his hand in hers she pulled him up and dragged him up the stairs to her office. Once there she immediately demanded the reason for his melt down fifteen minutes ago.

Had it really been fifteen minutes?

He told her about his day so far: his lack of sleep, the small confrontation with Kevin, the fact that his old car had decided to be a tease. She had spit and sputtered before finally starting when he left to come in for work. She would stall out at every other stop light. It was finally a half mile from Shot when she stopped working all together. It ended up being too much for him and that's what found him where he was now.

Lisa smiled sympathetically at him, pulled out her cell phone, and tapped out a quick message. Her grin was mischievous when she looked at him from her perch on her desk.

"Well, I've got one of your problems solved, or I will in less than an hour. As far as the sleep problem and your roommate… is your sleep problem really that bad? Because if it is, don't wait for it to start affecting your personal life, at least not as bad as it is now."

She held her hands up in surrender at the glare she was received. "I'm not telling you what to do, but maybe you should see someone about it. I just don't want you getting hurt. What if you were to fall asleep at the espresso maker from exhaustion?"

Castiel scoffed, Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Just give it some thought, okay? Now, if you're feeling better, get your ass out there. 'Cause I've gotta get out of here soon. Big date tonight!" she exclaimed, her huge smile deepening the crinkles around her chocolate brown eyes.

"Oh, that's right! It's your anniversary isn't it? Which year is it again?" he questioned, head tilted in earnest curiosity.

"Thirteenth. It's hard to believe we've been married that long, that we've known each other even longer…" her voice trailed off, her eyes glazing over as if lost in thoughts of when she and her husband first met.

Castiel told himself he never wanted that, but to do that he had to ignore the sound of his heart cracking a bit more. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she began talking again.

"Speaking of, Castiel, when are you going to find someone? You've been here a year and not _once_ have I heard about you going on a date."

Lisa appeared to want to say more but was interrupted by the vibrating of her phone. Glancing at the phone, then at Castiel, she held a finger up as an indication that she needed a moment to check it. He was more than happy to let her; it would give him just enough time to escape into the openness of the shop.

Watching her nod to the phone, obviously in response to the text she'd received, she tapped out a response and looked up just as Castiel was slipping out the door.

"Castiel, there's help coming for your car in about thirty minutes. So if you could let me know when they get here, I'll handle it. Okay?"

There was something about the way she looked at him that caused his spidey senses to go crazy, but he just nodded and closed the door behind him. He told himself that Lisa would never meddle in his love life, but she had never brought it up before now.

Shaking his head, he told himself it was nothing and started doing what Lisa paid him to do – working.

* * *

Why the fuck Lisa needed to be told when the tow truck arrived was beyond him. You could have heard that thing when it left whatever shop it came from!

It was as he was putting the finishing touches on the Coconut Nutella Latte – a drink that his co-worker, Amaris, had created – that he heard the truck grow louder as it approached. Handing the drink over and thanking the customer, Castiel ran for Lisa's office, only to nearly run into her.

The excitement on her face made him remember that wariness he had felt earlier. Now he felt like a small, defenseless animal being handed over for the kill. Ignoring their near collusion, she turned him around, looped her arm in his, and dragged him in the direction of the front doors.

Through the glass doors he could see the large tow truck. A fresh coat of grey paint, "L &amp; W AUTOS" stamped across the doors in dark red paint, and a phone number beneath the name.

Leaning against the back side of the truck was a man just slightly taller than Castiel, but with more muscle than he could ever dream of having. His arms were crossed in front of his chest causing his blue and white plaid shirt to strain against his biceps. One leg was stretched in front of him, the other bent so that his foot was pressed against the truck. He was clad in faded boot cut jeans that had rips in the knees, more than likely caused from years of wear. A pair of brown working boots peeked out from under the hem of the jeans, the toe of each shoe scuffed.

As Lisa pushed opened the doors still dragging Castiel, who had now fallen behind her, the man pushed himself away from the truck. When the man reached for Lisa's hand and kissed her knuckles, Castiel wiggled his away from Lisa's grasp and moved back toward the doors.

Lisa shooed the man away with her free hand and laughed. "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Benny. I know you have such a full schedule on a Friday night," Lisa joked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she winked.

"Why cher, you know I come running every time you call, especially when it's to help your 'favorite employee' as you said. Which, speaking of, must be –" he looked around, eyes landing on Castiel, " – you."

Castiel looked down shyly, when he felt a blush creeping across his cheeks. He knew that his face would soon be bright red, especially at the sound of the man chuckling.

"Name's Benny Lafitte, owner of L&amp;W Auto."

Castiel jumped at the sound of Benny's thick Cajun voice, not realizing the man had closed in on him.

Looking up, he saw that Benny was pointing to the black beanie he was wearing; white lettering spelling out the word "BOSS" was spread across the front. Castiel couldn't hold back the giggle that bubbled up and past his lips. The sound earned him a brilliant toothy grin that was framed by a light brown beard dusted with grey. His blue eyes the color of the autumn sky, sparkled with mirth.

The sound of Castiel's giggle caught Lisa's attention and brought her over. She looked at Castiel inquisitively, and he told her what Benny had said. This earned Benny a slap at the back of his head, and the yanking of his beanie off his head in the process.

"_CO-_owner, you mean. Dean would have your ass on a silver platter if he heard you lying to people again. He's still pissed over that prank you pulled last week, so don't push your luck, Lafitte."

This time it was Castiel who looked at Lisa inquisitively, head tilted.

"Dean has a thing about cats, and Benny thought it would be funny to put one in Dean's locker at work. It scared the shit out of him when he opened his locker to a pissed off cat," Lisa explained.

Benny howled in laughter at the memory and Lisa punched his upper arm in response.

Shaking her head at Benny as the man tried to catch his breath; she turned to Castiel and gave him a quick hug. "I'm heading out, but call me if you need to talk or run into any trouble." She glared at Benny who smiled innocently. Lisa rolled her eyes in response. "Anyway, just call me, and go with Benny to show him where your car is and he'll bring you back here so you can finish your shift. I'll see you on Monday, and remember what I said earlier. Just think about it."

She gave him another hug and walked off in the direction of her car, leaving the two men alone on the side walk in front of the coffee shop.

"So, let's go get that car of yours. Not that it's going anywhere." Benny winked at him, almost flirtingly, before turning and heading to the truck and climbing in. Castiel followed suit. They made their way in uncomfortable silence the half mile to where his car was. Castiel mentaly cursed Lisa the whole way there.

* * *

When Benny dropped him off at Shot thirty minutes later he handed Castiel a white, plain looking business card. The front had the name, address, and phone number of the mechanic's shop, and when Castiel turned it over he found another phone number messily written out. "In case you need a ride while your car is out of commission" was Benny's excuse.

Later that night after catching a ride with a co-worker back to his apartment, he tucked the business card in his wallet.

Just in case he needed a ride.

* * *

A week later he received a call from someone at L &amp; W Autos (Lisa must have given them his number since he's pretty sure he never gave any information) letting him know that he needed to come down to answer some questions about his car. He felt like he was being asked to come down to a police station to be integrated about a theft.

* * *

After class he took the bus downtown, and was shocked when he stepped off the bus in front of the shop.

The color scheme matched the truck that Benny had been driving a week ago. Dark grey vinyl siding covered the building and the front sides were edged with grey stones, a shade lighter than the siding, making them stand out in contrast. The windows, which were above and below an attached lean-to pergola, were outlined in white on the inner side, then dark red on the outer side. Above the top windows was a simple sign with the name of the auto shop.

The entrance door below the pergola, framed by two large windows, was painted the same scheme as the windows. The right side of the building held the garage portion. There were three small and two large lifting doors, each white and outlined in dark red.

Readjusting his backpack, he walked nervously into the garage. Immediately his nose was assaulted by the smell of oil and grease, his ears by the sound of the whirring of an electric impact wrench. The lobby, much like the outside, was not what he expected. The floors were black granite that shined like that were waxed on a regular basis, or never walked on. Along the wall by the entrance and wrapping around along the left hand wall, was a leather couch. A large 52" plasma TV hung from the corner straight ahead.

To his right was a plain black counter with several car accessories and a cash register, behind it were two large windows that showed various cars being worked on, and a simple door leading into the garage.

"Can I help you?"

Castiel yelped and spun around, clutching the strap of his backpack as he did. He had been so caught up in the news headlines airing on the TV that he hadn't realized someone had entered. Well, not until that deep, gruff, 'I can die and be okay with it', voice spoke.

He was also okay with the fact that the voice belonged to one of the sexiest men he'd ever seen. Damn, he was starting to like this place!

Though he couldn't see below the waist, what he did see made him inwardly groan.

A tight, black, short sleeved Henley strained against a well-developed chest and matching arms. A bit of a belly gave away from the illusion the man might have been sporting a six pack. His skin was slightly tanned, most likely faded from spending so much time in the garage. The dusting of freckles along his nose and under his eyes showed he wasn't inside _all_ the time. The man's firm jaw was covered in fine stubble and Castiel couldn't help but notice his cleft chin.

Castiel hadn't realized he'd been staring until he heard someone cough and repeat the question from earlier.

"Er… Um… Yes, I received a call earlier regarding my car. My name is Cas-"

"Castiel! I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

He tore his eyes away from the man, whose intense green eyes were starting to show some annoyance, in the direction of a Cajun accent. Looking toward the door that led to the garage, stood Benny in a dark blue jumpsuit, his name etched in white at the top left corner.

Castiel couldn't help but blush as both men stared at him for two entirely different reasons.

Benny came around the counter and placed his arm around Castiel's shoulder. "Dean, this is Castiel, the one Lisa was telling you about."

At that statement one of Dean's eyebrows cocked up in amusement, the annoyance slowly fading. He ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair, nearly missing the oil smudged on his forehead. "Yeah, I had Emmett call him this morning about his car. Was actually gonna see him if he'd thought about getting a new one, or at least putting this one out to pasture, because I hate to say it, she ain't worth it kid."

The nonchalant way that Dean talked about his car was just too much for him. Pushing Benny away, he let his backpack slide from his shoulder and fall to the ground as he stormed to the counter, hands balled up into fists. No one and he meant NO ONE, talked about his car that way.

He didn't realize he'd spoken that part a loud until Dean smirked at him and Benny barked out a laugh. "First of all, don't call me kid. Secondly, I thought you said you had him call because you had some questions for me, not to give me some goddman automotive advice. Because believe me, at this moment, you'd be the last person I'd come to for it. So what the fuck did you want to ask me?"

The room fell quiet; the two mechanics looked at each other over Castiel's head.

"I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to sell her to me for spare parts. I'd be willing to pay you-"

"Fuck no!"

Dean looked at Benny, his eyes shooting back and forth between Castiel and the other man in a silent plea for help. All he received was a shrug and a mouthed "sorry brother."

So Dean sighed and squared his shoulders. He could do this. He'd dealt with tougher customers than this, and what was Castiel but a college student and a fucking barista at Lisa's coffee shop.

* * *

An hour later found Castiel sitting at the bus stop outside the shop. Benny was scheduled to drop his car off at the apartment complex tomorrow morning. She might not run, but she'd still be his.

The only thing he was worried about was what Dean Winchester was going to say to his wife, and if he'd still have a job after all this.

Fucking Winchester!

Castiel punched the bus stop sign.

* * *

Edited November 8, 2014


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: So, I don't really like this chapter, but I'm gonna be busy this weekend and I wanted to get it out, so here it is. Once again, thanks to everyone for their support thus far, and I hope you continue to read :)**

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
I See Now That I Won't Let Go  
**

"We have _got_ to find you a boyfriend, Castiel."

The barista squeaked, sloshing a bit of his soy pumpkin spice latte on to his hand, as he spun around to face his boss. To those who didn't know her well enough that expression on her face would read complete innocence. To the rest of the population though, they could see the glint in her eyes that gave away her poker face.

"No, we don't, Lisa," he said curtly, finishing clocking out for the day. It had been a long week in general, plus a busy day all around. All he wanted to do was go home. Also, on top of that, it was supposed to begin raining this evening and he didn't want to be out in it.

Licking the bits of liquid from his hand, he shifted his latte between his hands to get his backpack on his back.

Lisa pouted and followed him outside, sticking close to keep the conversation between them. "Please Castiel," she begged. "Just – What if a guy came up to you in the grocery store and asked for your number? What would you do?"

He stopped abruptly to look at her, suddenly feeling tired. It wasn't from exhaustion, but from this never ending conversation. Right now he almost wanted to smack the smug look of her face. "Lisa, I'm too old for this shit."

She jerked him back when he started walking off again, more of his latte spilling, this time on the pavement. "How old are you?"

"31."

"And you're telling me that 'you're too old for this shit,' why? Because I hope you wouldn't tell a guy that."

"No, if a guy _did_ come up and ask for my number, I'd probably punch him in the face," he deadpanned, taking a sip of his drink. He wrinkled his nose at the taste of the now cold latte.

"Yeah, and he'd probably think you're insane."

It was clear that Lisa was becoming increasingly more annoyed with this conversation than he was, so he cut it short with an "exactly" and walked off, ignoring her.

* * *

It was hard to explain to people the thoughts that would rush through his head, the way his mind processed the simplest of motions. How he could perceive something innocent as something vile, and vice versa. His mind was a bundle of contradictions and hypocritical notions. He knew how to read people, but only for their weaknesses, because what else was there?

This was the part of Castiel that was insecure, that was paranoid, and that distrusted everyone. This was the part of Castiel that saw "flirting" as a form of mocking him. This was the part of Castiel that told him it was okay to be single, because everyone else would hurt him. This was the part of Castiel that was scared.

It was hard to explain to people the thoughts that would rush through his head, the way his mind processed the simplest of motions. How he could perceive something vile as something innocent, and vice versa. His mind was a bundle of contradictions and hypocritical notions. He knew how to play people, but only off their weakness, because what else was there?

This was the part of Castiel that was naïve and cunning. This was the part of Castiel that wouldn't know "flirting" if it smacked him in the face. This was the part of Castiel that was lonely, even though he knows it would only bring madness to have "love". This was the part of Castiel that was insecure.

So, when someone suggested that he needed to find a boyfriend, how could he tell them all the thoughts that ran through his head at that one sentence? The fear and insecurity, it was always about the fear and insecurity, and no one like Lisa Winchester would ever understand.

* * *

_I don't mind where you come from, as long as you come to me  
I don't like illusions, I can't see them clearly  
_

_I don't care; no, I wouldn't dare  
To fix the twist in you  
You've shown me eventually what you'll do  
_

_I don't mind, I don't care  
As long as you're here  
_

_Hours slide and days go by, 'til you decide to come  
And in between it always seems too long  
All of a sudden  
_

_And I have the skill, yeah, I have the will  
To breathe you in while I can, however long you stay  
Is all that I am?  
_

_Wrong or right, black or white  
If I close my eyes, it's all the same  
_

_In my life, the compromise  
I close my eyes, it's all the same  
_

_Go ahead, say it – you're leaving, you'll just come back running  
Holding your scarred heart in hand  
It's all the same_

_And I'll take you for who you are, if you take me for everything  
Do it all over again, it's all the same_

* * *

He stared at the iPod he clutched in his hand as the song finished playing, tears blurring his vision. He was over this shit, he was better, he was above this, and he didn't need anyone.

Letting it fall from his grasp to his comforter, he rolled off his bed and walked across his room to his dresser where his wallet lay. No, he wasn't looking for someone, but he did need someone to talk to, and someone had offered to him help before, so maybe the offer still stood.

Digging the business card out, he grabbed the phone from beside his wallet and dialed the seven digits, nervously picking at his fingernails, one handed, as the phone rang.

"Hello –" Castiel inhaled, not quite sure if he was ready to hang up or leave a voice mail, when he realized there was no need to decide.

"Hello?" He exhaled, and shook free his nerves.

"Hey, Benny? It's Castiel. I was just wondering, if it's not too late that is, if your offer for that ride was still available?"

* * *

The city was quiet as they drove down the rain-slicked streets, Castiel staring out the window at the street lights, their glow reflecting off the wetness of the pavement. He wasn't sure when it actually rained, but there was still a light mist gathering on the windshield, if the sound of the wipers were any indication. The warm glow of the lights, combined with the sound of the truck speeding over the wet road, was enough to begin to ease Castiel's mind.

"So, mind telling me where you wanna go?"

The truck came to a halt at a stop light, turning the interior a blend of red and orangeish-yellow. Castiel continued to stare out the window. The mist started building into a sprinkle, the more developed drops forming on the window and sliding down, racing each other. The one closest to the front of the truck won.

Turning his attention away from the rain drops, he focused on his reflection and barely made out Benny's behind him. The man didn't seem angry that Castiel basically had him driving him aimlessly around town this late at night. He didn't exactly look happy about it either, just… indifferent.

So Castiel shrugged, and Benny sighed. The light turned green, and the truck eased forward. "Well, at least tell me what you're running from," the Cajun questioned. His was voice was softer than before, which hit a nerve in the black haired man.

This time Castiel turned to look at the driver, a look of hostility flashing across his face. "Who are you to say I'm running away from something! You don't fucking know me Benny Lafitte, so don't pretend to. Just drive… okay?"

"Sure, but let me tell you something there, cher. I'm gonna tell you the same thing that I told Dean along time ago. You can't run from what's in there." He gently pressed his forefinger to Castiel's temple before returning his focus to the road ahead.

Castiel huffed and pushed himself against the passenger door, forehead pressed against the coolness of the window. What did Benny know about him anyway? And what could he and Dean possibly have in common? Huffing again, the window fogging up from the action, he lost himself in watching the lights and the rain, sad that the stars couldn't be out as well.

* * *

_"Good Morning. Today's forecast calls for blue skies."  
_

Just as he was grappling with his phone to shut the damn thing up, it was tugged from his hand and shut off. He lifted his head at the sound of it being placed back on his nightstand. Castiel was surprised to see Benny in the clothes he was wearing the night before.

The disheveled man cocked an eyebrow, grumbled something along the lines of 'it's to fucking early for this shit,' and hid his head under his pillow. Benny grabbed said pillow, then pulled the cord to the blinds, nearly blinding Castiel as the sun filled the room. Castiel hissed and yanked the comforter over his head. It was a futile effort. Benny only jerked off of him a moment later.

"C'mon Castiel, get outta bed!" Benny said, his cheerful voice almost deafening to Castiel's not-a-morning-person's ears.

"Shut the fuck up, Benny, and leave me alone," he groaned, covering his head with his arms. Anything to block his face from that damn infernal ball of fire.

Too bad Benny had other plans for Castiel – like yanking him out of bed by his feet.

* * *

Castiel sat in the tow truck outside of the garage with his car on the flatbed. His arms were crossed, his face twisted in a scowl. He'd been told over breakfast that he had fallen asleep during the little drive last night.

Benny, being the gentleman he was, took Castiel upstairs and was let in by Kevin (he won't ever thank his roommate enough for not sleeping, even if he didn't agree with it). After putting him in his bed, Benny and Kevin had had a little chat about Castiel, his car, and about the incident the week before.

That had somehow led to him being in the damn tow truck at this moment, outside the garage Benny co-owned, pissed and wanting to go home. Benny got out of the truck and when he walked past the passenger side, Castiel put down the window.

"Are you gonna tell me why the hell we're here?"

Benny stopped and turned to face Castiel, shaking his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hadn't planned on it," he drawled, and continued his walk toward the garage.

He groaned and looked up at the sky. The bright blue sky from that morning was becoming overcast, grey clouds slowly moving in from the north and blanketing the sun. Castiel tugged on the sleeves of his navy blue sweater as a chilled breeze ruffled his hair. He began to wonder if this was a sign of what was about to happen.

* * *

To say he was shocked would have been an understatement.

Castiel watched through the side view mirror as Dean strode toward the truck, his face looking about as happy about the situation as Castiel felt, but he stood straight and walked with determination.

This was the first time he had seen Dean below the waist and the long strides that Dean made seemed to only emphasize the fact he was bowlegged. The top of his jumpsuit was unzipped, the sleeves tied around his waist, drawing attention to the man's not quite flat stomach. Castiel now found it oddly endearing and couldn't stop the smile that came across his face. The man's flaws were more attractive than his perfections.

"Benny said you wanted to talk, so talk." The voice that came from right beside him sent his heart racing. It also caused him to jump in surprise and he was proud of himself for not making some high-pitched sound from the shock.

Quickly regaining his composure, hoping that Dean hadn't noticed, he glared at the man, focusing his cerulean blue eyes on the jade green ones in front of him. It was hard to say how much time passed as they started at each other. Castiel fought the urge to look down and count the freckles that were dusted underneath Dean's eyes.

Dean was the first the break their gaze, coughing nervously and rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine, don't talk, but at least listen okay?" Castiel kept quiet but turned away and looked out the windshield at the bus stop ahead. "I'm gonna take that as an okay."

Castiel heard Dean sigh and out of the side of his peripheral vision he saw Dean, turning to lean back against the door. "Lisa's been bitching at me about the way you've been acting since the day after the garage thing, even though I don't think it's my fault. Hell, you're the one that lost your damn temper!" Dean sighed again. Before he could continue, Castiel thumped him on the back of his head.

"What the fuck man?!" Dean whirled around to face him, rubbing the back of his head where Castiel's forefinger had flicked him. "You could have at least let me finish. Sheesh."

"Why should I? You already said enough by blaming me for Lisa 'bitching at you' when it was _your_ damn fault, not mine. You had no right to say what you did, no matter what condition my car is in!" Castiel nearly shouted, baling his hands into fists. He wanted to punch the man in the face, but he had never had the courage to do something so bold in his life. Even through the shit with Balthazar, he had never laid a finger on the man – even though the piece of shit deserved it.

Dean, however, was different. Noticing the fists, the knuckles that were turning white from the tension, he knew what needed to be done.

"Get out the damn truck," Dean instructed.

Castiel scoffed, rolling his eyes. His hands began to lose their tautness at the audacity of the idiot before him. "Don't tell me what to fucking to."

"Get. Out. The damn. Truck." Dean punched out the words, trying to provoke Castiel.

"NO!"

"Dammit, Cas, get out the mother fucking truck, or I swear –"

"What. What are you gonna do Dean? Because I'm not scared of you, no matter what you think." Castiel squeezed his hands back into fists, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He ignored them, keeping his glare focused Dean, trying to keep everything that been repressed inside, from showing.

Having had enough, Dean yanked the door open, eyebrow cocked, as he backed up. He's not sure why, but the man's reaction worried him. He wanted to say something to Benny and Lisa, but they'd probably smack him for arguing with Castiel in the first place. He'd just have to figure it out on his own.

"You need to get out the truck if you're gonna hit me."

Castiel blinked, staring at Dean, his anger diffused by disbelief – at least for the time being. "Hit you?"

"Yes, hit me. I think it'll make you feel better and honestly there's noth-"

Dean didn't notice Castiel get out of the truck. All that he remembered was feeling pain radiate across his jaw from the powerful right hook and the air escape his lungs at the jab to his stomach. Fuck, Cas had some powerful punches.

He doubled over in pain, falling to the gravel on his knees. Dean had thought Castiel was just going to punch him in the arm. If he had expected this he would have braced himself. Looking up he saw the younger man nursing his hands, wincing in pain.

"Never punch someone before?" he wheezed. Castiel shook his head and Dean smiled through the pain. "Coulda fooled me kid, you pack one hell of a punch… bet you feel better though, dontcha?"

Castiel smiled sheepishly, looking down at his fists, the knuckles starting to take on a bluish tinge. Dean groaned as he got to his feet, wrapping his right arm around his middle. He knew he was gonna get a lot of questions when his jaw started to bruise. "Good, that mean we can go talk now? Honestly, there's something I need to explain, and I should have said it before."

Castiel sidled up beside Dean, inspecting the jaw he had just punched. With a smirk and a nod at his handy work, he patted Dean on his shoulder. "Yeah, let's talk."

* * *

They walked behind the garage which housed rows of abandoned vehicles, some rusted from old age, others that looked like they'd just gotten there. When asked about them, Dean just shrugged and said that people didn't feel as strongly about their cars and they did. Castiel didn't question who "they" were.

As they walked, Dean talked. He talked of an older lady who lived near Lisa and him. She couldn't afford a car and he wanted to fix one up for her as a surprise. Castiel waved his hand around, wordlessly asking "why not one of these?" to which Dean just laughed.

"When Benny brought yours in I knew she was a lost cause and I was ready to pick up the phone and tell you myself, but he told me to give her a chance. So I did. And honestly, I'm glad. Sure she needed a lot of work done, and knowing your situation, I knew there was no way you'd be able to afford it. But I knew it'd be perfect for my neighbor, because there was just something about that car.

"I lied about the spare parts because I wanted you to have the money. From what I knew about you from Lisa, you'd never take the money if you knew the truth. Right now, you can't tell me you'd sell her to me knowing the truth."

Castiel was shocked by what Dean had confessed, because how could the asshole he had met a week ago turn into the kind hearted man beside him today. The man who'd willingly let him get his aggressions out on him physically. Lisa had had this man in her life for over 13 years, and he hoped she knew how lucky she was.

"Would you sell her to me?" Dean questioned him again. It seemed like Dean was always questioning him twice.

Thinking about the question, knowing the answer that Dean was expecting, he answered contradictory. "Yes, but under two conditions."

Dean just nodded.

"One, you buy me lunch." Dean's stomach rumbled at the mention of food, causing the man to blush. Castiel wondered if there was anything this man could do that wasn't adorable. "Two, I get to pick out one of these cars and help you fix it up for me. For free." Dean opened his mouth and Castiel cut him off. "I know I'm not the most mechanically inclined and that I'm busy with classes and work, but I'm a fast learner. Now, if you or Benny have some free time after hours would you be willing… Please Dean?"

Dean wanted to tell him to forget it. That he'd fix one of the cars he already had for his neighbor. But then Castiel fixed him with this _look_.

It wasn't like the staring contest they had earlier. No, this was fucking "say no and my world will end right now," and how could he say no that! So Dean sighed, rubbed his hands over his eyes, and nodded. He'd probably regret it, but what could he do. Especially when the man hugged him, especially when he found himself hugging him back, especially when he found himself growing hard as their bodies pressed together.

Shit.

* * *

Dean drove a standard tan '89 F250 Ford to the diner that he declared had the best pie in town. From all the shit that he had talked about his car, Castiel was surprised by the truck. But he didn't say anything, just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

He thought they wouldn't have anything to talk about, but conversation seemed to flow seamlessly between them, most of it centered on music. They had similar interests when it came to classic rock, but while Castiel branched out beyond that, Dean seemed to stay loyal. Castiel had fun teasing the deep voiced man about it, mainly because it was easy to bait him. And the way his voice grew slightly deeper was a perk as well.

Their meal went the same way. They argued over pie versus cake, and the best flavor of pie, until their food arrived. Dean dove into his cheeseburger loaded with everything, inhaling it. Castiel ate his cheeseburger at a steady pace, actually _chewing_ between bites.

Dean had finished his food, and was waiting for his pie to arrive, while Castiel continued to eat. One particularly large bite left a bit of ketchup between his lips and cheek, Dean couldn't help but snicker. Castiel tilted his head, eyebrow raised, and shit if it wasn't adorable.

He mentally smacked himself before pointing to the area on his own face where the ketchup would have been. "You got a little something right there."

"Oh." Castiel grabbed a napkin and wiped the wrong side of his face. Dean groaned and shook his head. "No, Cas, the other side. Right here." He pointed the area again on his own face, and watched as Castiel wiped the other side of his face, missing the area completely. Exasperated, Dean grabbed the napkin from his hand and leaned forward, wiping the ketchup from his face.

"There, you big dork. You really need to work on your hand-eye coordination, you know that?"

Castiel smiled and blushed, but remained silent. Dean followed the redness as it crept across the man's face until he was staring into pools of cobalt. He suddenly realized how close he had leaned forward.

Had he ever noticed his eyes being this blue?

The sound of a plate landing on the table had him jumping back to his side of the table, smiling up at the waitress, sheepishly. He knew he was blushing if the heat from his face was any indication, and the heat grew as she winked and walked away.

Shit.

* * *

Edited November 9, 2014


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here's a little chapter because I've been sick, busy with work, and with my son and the cub scouts.**

**I want to say thank you to all of those who continue to read, it means more than you'll ever know. I know everyone goes through the whole "no one's reading this piece of shit" "oh my god this shit sucks" ... or maybe it's just me... but anyway, I've been feeling that way a lot recently, so just knowing people are reading means a lot to me. Thank you guys, and especially to the guest who commented last chapter. I *heart* you so much :)**

**And LoveYourself845, you know I *heart* you always!**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven  
Be A Simple, Really Simple Man  
**

Dean Winchester was your all American boy growing up. He lived in the picture perfect two-story house, with the white picket fence, large back yard, and typical family dog. His parents, Mary and John, had been high school sweethearts and married right out of college. They had been married five years when Dean was born. The small family of three was content, but something felt missing. Dean was four when Sam was born.

Their little family was complete.

* * *

Dean may not have been the brightest in his class, but Mary and John never stopped encouraging him to do his best. Even when Sam started school and it was clear that he was going to be the brains of the family, they never stopped pushing Dean. In high school he became harder on himself, especially when his first report card showed he was failing Algebra 1. That's when Mary suggested he get a tutor. That's when Dean met Lisa.

* * *

Lisa Braeden had moved to their small town during the summer of '92, just before their freshman year started. And though Dean had _heard_ of her, he'd never crossed paths with the new girl. When their tutoring sessions started, he honestly couldn't believe his luck in being coupled with the attractive girl.

The day of their first study session he gaped when she entered the room, looking like a super model in a simple sweater and jeans combo. Her olive skin stood out in contrast against her white cable knit sweater. The sweater was a size too big, but were tucked into her high waisted jeans just enough to show the curve of her waist.

Straight dark brown hair fell down her back, bangs teased similarly to how all the other girls did theirs, but he had to admit they _did_ draw attention to her eyes. They weren't large or particularly different from any other eyes he'd ever seen, but they held kindness, and their color reminded him of the chocolate that Sam's favorite TV chef, Gabriel Milton, loved to cook with.

Apologizing profusely for gawking, he pulled out a chair for her and they began their lesson.

* * *

The hour went faster than he had wanted it to and, to be honest, he couldn't wait for the next one in two days. Lisa had been patient with him, never raising her voice or showing signs of becoming aggravated with him. He knew he could be a pain in the ass student at times, well_ all_ the time, but you'd never know it with her.

Slowly though, with Lisa's help, Dean began to understand real numbers and linear equations. When he received his progress report near the beginning of November, he was surprised to see he had brought his failing grade up to a high C. Overcome with happiness, and without thinking, he picked Lisa up and swung her around, laughing. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing along with him, glad that both their hard work had paid off.

It was as Dean realized what he had done, as he was putting Lisa down, and as he was looking into her simple brown eyes, that they shared their first kiss.

They continued to do their study lessons together, but now as boyfriend and girlfriend, and with dates thrown in on the weekends.

* * *

The rest of high school went by in a blur for the couple.

They were the couple other's strived to be. Lisa was the girl that made being smart cool, and Dean proved that you didn't have to be a jock to get the hottest girl in school.

Each year the yearbook had at least ten pictures of the couple together, and so it wasn't a surprise to anyone that senior year they were nominated "the couple to most likely live 'happily ever after.'" Senior year also saw them being crowned homecoming queen and king. Not that that was a surprise to anyone either.

Nothing was a surprise when it came to the two teenagers. Especially when they ended up going to the same college, because why wouldn't they? They hadn't been apart for four years, how could they bear being separated for four years or longer?

* * *

Lisa and Dean attended KSU, majoring in business and mechanics, respectively.

* * *

It was while taking Classical Mechanics that Dean met Benny Lafitte. Dean seemed to be instantly drawn to the man from Louisiana, and they became inseparable. Lisa, Dean, and Benny became something similar to the Three Musketeers. They were always being seen together, so it wasn't a surprise that Benny was there when Dean proposed to Lisa.

* * *

The year was '99 and they had started their senior year of college. Dean and Lisa were celebrating the anniversary of their first tutoring session in the university library. Just as a way to wind things down. It seemed fitting to end the date their last year of school in the first "place" they met – a library.

Lisa sat on one of the couches while Dean was sprawled out, his head rested on her lap, when Benny walked in. He offered them a knowing smile, and handed Dean a book he had borrowed the day before, or so he claimed. Lisa didn't notice the exchange of a tiny black box between the two, or she chose not to at least.

When Benny left, they lay like that a bit more until the librarian announced it was closing time and for everyone to leave. Gathering their things they followed the woman out, but Dean stopped Lisa before she could walk down the steps.

It was there in front of the library doors that Dean dropped down to one knee and promised to love her forever. It was there that Lisa said yes, hugging Dean as he stood up, hiding her tears in his shoulder. It was there that Benny snapped a few pictures of the happy event from behind one of the columns. It was there that Lisa chased Benny down, jumped on his back, and snatched the camera from him.

She never thanked him enough for those pictures.

* * *

The three of them graduated at the top of their class that May in '00, and in October of '01, on the day of their first tutoring session, Lisa and Dean were wed. The wedding was small with only friends and family in attendance.

Lisa's dress was white, strapless, with a short train. Dean wore a simple black tux with a white button up shirt. Sam was his best man, Benny his groomsman. Lisa had her best friend Alice as her maid of honor, and Sam's girlfriend Jessica as her bridesmaid. The church was one they had all gone to, excluding Benny, and the service was simple and straight to the point.

All in all it was perfect for the high school sweethearts.

* * *

In '02 things were going well for the Winchester couple. They had gotten word from Lisa's parents about a small city an hour from the east coast, a thousand miles from them, in North Carolina.

In this small city was an abandoned garage and five miles away was an abandoned building. Dean had been looking in to opening up a garage with Benny, and Lisa had been looking in to opening up a café. It was a gamble, but Lisa's parents were willing to help them.

So the Winchester's took it. They drove to the little city, ready to take on their dreams, with their best friend in tow, of course.

* * *

Things were looking up for them.

The garage took some fixing up, but Benny and Dean got it up and running, and soon L &amp; W was open. The locals were apprehensive about the new place; afraid that the newcomers were there to run out the small businesses, but the two friends put that to rest. It wasn't long before they were all working together, advice being traded between novice and veteran.

* * *

Lisa had her own kind of trouble.

The building was a blank canvas of brick, and she was no painter, or any other type of creative person. All she wanted was to open up a beautiful café that she could call her own; she hadn't realized that this was part of the process.

Dean and Benny tried to help her, but it only led to fights between the three. Lisa would tell them they had their own shit to worry about; they would say they could handle helping her just fine. This went on for weeks until Lisa finally caved.

* * *

Magazines and paint cans were scattered across the floor of the building. Lisa had settled on a paint color, now they just needed to get an idea for the interior, which is where the magazines came in. Lisa suggested that since they'd spent so much money on magazines, they should wallpaper the place in them.

Dean and Benny took it literally.

Lisa decided _not_ to make stupid suggestions around the idiots.

* * *

One summers night Dean and Lisa were taking a walk outside, looking up at the stars and trying to identify the constellations, when an epiphany struck her. Lisa grabbed Dean and they drove down to the building to get started. When daylight broke they called Benny to come finish helping.

They would leave in shifts to pick up supplies, not wanting to stop in case Lisa changed her mind. Because honestly they'd put so much work into this already. By three the next morning they were done. All they needed were the basics and some other minor decors.

It was in September '03 that Shot in the Dark was officially open. Shot – for Lisa's love of espresso, Dark – for Dean's love of black coffee.

It was in October that Lisa announced to Dean that he was going to be a father.

It was in July that Benjamin Cole Winchester was born.

Ten years later their businesses, their marriage, and their love for each other were still going strong.

At least, Dean thought they were.

* * *

**October '14**  
Dean was getting ready for his date with Lisa that night. It was their thirteenth wedding anniversary and he had some _special_ plans for the night. He smirked at the thoughts that ran through his head as he spiked his sandy blonde hair. He still couldn't believe that twenty-two years ago he'd met the love of his life, that they had a ten year old son, and two successful businesses.

It was like a fucking fairy tale come true – if you believed in shit like that, of course.

He set the bottle of cologne down, after spraying some around his body, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Fishing it out he saw it was from Lisa, to Benny and himself, something about her employee needing a tow ASAP.

Rolling his eyes and knowing that Benny would get it, he pocketed the phone and headed out. He needed to make a stop before picking Lisa up at the café.

* * *

The night had gone off without a hitch.

Lisa's parents had picked Ben up from school and Lisa and Dean had enjoyed a romantic dinner at Lisa's favorite restaurant, Umberto's. Dean found the food okay, but Lisa had always moaned it was to die for.

After sharing a tiramisu, they took a walk through the city, hand in hand. Dean noticed when Benny drove by and he'd deny his curiosity was piqued by the sight of tousled black hair in the passenger seat of the tow truck.

His attention wasn't focused on the person for long when Lisa tugged on his sleeve, pulling him further along their walk. He inwardly groaned. Cars were invented so people didn't _have_ to walk! But walk he did, because it made Lisa happy.

When they arrived home later in the evening after walking off their dinner, Dean surprised Lisa with his gift. He had looked up the list of traditional anniversary gifts and found that lace was the gift for the thirteenth; of course his mind went to the dark side.

The black and red lace teddy that he gifted her with didn't stay on her long. Dean could have cared less about what Lisa got him, worshiping her that night was good enough of a gift for him.

* * *

A '96 Honda Accord greeted him when entered the garage Monday morning. With a groan he popped the hood and took a look, and after twenty minutes of going over the car he slammed the hood shut. Swiftly, he turned around and walked back into the office, picking up the paper work on the counter in preparation to call the owner. There was no way in _hell_ he was fixing that hunk of junk that was supposed to be called a car.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes, Winchester? Aren't people _supposed_ to be happy after going at it like rabbits all weekend?" Benny teasingly questioned him as he stepped up to the counter, attempting to the read the paper upside down. "Um… Why ya calling Cas? I know his car ain't fixed already."

"You're damn right it ain't," he sat the paper work down and set Benny with a stern gaze. "Did you even _look_ to see what was wrong with it, Benny? Because I did, and I'm telling you right now, it's a fucking lost cause. So if you don't mind, I'm gonna call _Cas_ and tell him the bad news."

"Well, would you look again at the damn thing before you do," he held a hand up before Dean could interrupt. "I don't mean like that, I mean _look_ at it. We didn't talk a lot yesterday, but I have a feeling that she's more than 'just a car' to him, Dean. So go take a look, and not from the eyes of a mechanic either."

"Fine," Dean muttered, turning and heading back into the garage. Benny following close behind, rolling his eyes. "But if I still don't like what I see, I'm calling him and getting that sack of foreign shit out of my garage."

* * *

He'd seen cars come through that were in such pristine condition he often wondered why the hell he was looking at the car in the first place. On the other hand, he'd seen cars that looked like they'd been in a demolition derby, and he wondered why the _hell_ he was looking at it at all.

But this car, _this car_, was different. Running his hand over the driver's seat he came across a burn mark even though there wasn't any odor of smoke – of any kind. The gear shift was worn and he would swear to anyone that he could make out the indentions of the driver's – Cas' – right hand.

The mileage made him cringe, but it was obvious that the man trusted the car or else she wouldn't have racked up such a high number. He could only imagine what sights she'd seen. Around the cup holders were coffee stains, but that was a given considering where Cas worked at.

The passenger side floor board was littered with some receipts, mostly from fast food places and mostly for cheeseburgers and fries. The backseat was pretty bare and untouched. It was actually the cleanest part of the car that he'd seen so far.

Odd how a car can start to put the pieces of a person's puzzle together.

Dean popped the hood again and inspected it once more before leaning against the edge of the hood, looking at Benny. He suddenly felt tired over what was about to come up.

"Car still needs work. A new radiator for sure. Probably more as we go. I know the kid will wanna keep the damn thing, but if he's going to college _and_ working for Lisa." Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's no way in _hell_ he's gonna be able to afford it, Benny." Dean looked down at the engine again, dropping his hand, eyes dancing across it as he sank deep into thought.

It wasn't long before a smile split across his face and he slammed the hood down, green eyes shining as he turned to Benny once more.

"I've got an idea."

* * *

A week later he came face to face with Castiel Milton. He came close to being face to fist with him too.

Lisa had described Castiel as kind, sometimes quiet, absolutely stubborn, but always friendly. So Dean knew his plan would go off without a hitch. Looking back he should have gone over it with Lisa ahead of time, because Benny had been no fucking help whatsoever.

* * *

That night he went home, tail between his legs. He wasn't able to name the feeling he felt as he had watched Castiel sit at the bus stop earlier that afternoon.

* * *

Nearly a week after the incident, Benny approached him while he was changing the oil of an '01 Ford Escape.

Oddly enough they spoke about Castiel.

They spoke about the night before and what had happened between Benny and Castiel, and about the fact that Castiel was sitting out in the truck waiting to talk to Dean.

He eyed Benny wearily, not wanting to get caught on Castiel's wrong side, but Benny promised him that everything would be fine. So out he went. And to say he put on a brave face to cover the fact he was scared shitless, well that would be the understatement of all understatements.

* * *

Thinking back on the lunch and the events beforehand made Dean want to bang his head on his desk. He was currently holed up in his office in an attempt to hide from Benny and any other minions who might happen to be lurking around the garage.

He's not sure when it first happened.

Maybe it was the first time he saw Castiel, when the younger man let out that adorable "yelp" when he had been startled. Or perhaps it was when he became passionate about his car. Dean knew he would have reacted the same way about his Baby. Castiel held his ground like no one he'd ever seen… Dean smiled at the memory before he realized what he was doing.

He thought back to earlier in the day when Castiel had thumped the back of his head. The smile gave way to a laugh as he rubbed the back of his head. The man he'd only known two weeks, only met twice, had become so familiar with him, almost like a friend. Their arguments were juvenile and honestly, who would someone just _punch_ them!

Not Dean Winchester.

Well, not normally.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his hands over his face, groaning.

What was Castiel doing to him?

And was it for the good or the worse?

* * *

Edited November 9, 2014


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: A bit of a TW for a cutting scene (don't hurt me!), also my first try at a scene that I'm not gonna give away, so you may be scared by the awfulness of it.**

**When I went back to edit this chapter I actually tried to get rid of the parts that were Dean's POV. But I couldn't. Every time I tried it just came out... wrong. It was then that I looked at the title and remembered the reason that I had picked it. It represents both Dean AND Cas. Looks like my inner "writter" knew what it was doing after all.**

**I want to thank those who gave such encouraging comments the past couple of chapters. I really did hate them and was actually getting to the point of growing sick of this fic, but it's nice to know there are fans of it. So I really do appreciate it, honestly and truly! Loves, and hugs, and cuddles!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve  
All of Your Flaws and All of My Flaws  
**

Dean and Cas stood in front of what used to be a black and white '78 Chevrolet Silverado. The rear bumper was rusted and looked as if one stiff breeze would have it falling off the decrepit vehicle. The truck's tailgate wasn't in any better condition. The makes name was barely legible from age and both tail lights were bashed in.

Along the sides were gouges and dents, the right side far worse than its counterpart. There were three flat tires, the fourth missing and had been replaced with a cinder block. A busted side view mirror finished up the abused sides. With Cas on the left, Dean on the right, Cas stuck his head through the hole that should have held a glass window. He let out a low whistle of shame at what he saw.

His attention was first drawn to the fact that the floor boards had rusted to the point of caving in; the second thing was that the black and white bench seats had been sliced open. Yellow aged foam spilled out from the cuts and a few rusted springs were jutting out among them. Pieces of foam stuck here and there. It reminded Castiel of an old sofa he'd seen at a dump, and then he had to hold back a snort when he remembered where he was.

He eyed the door opposite him, avoiding staring at Dean, feeling his stomach turn at the sight of bare metal. The door latch and window handle were missing all together, not that it mattered. Another sight that made his stomach turn was the fact that the truck had a manual transmission.

When he had first started learning how to drive, Anna had tried to teach him to drive a stick shift. The lessons came to a halt when he kept grinding the gears. He wondered if Dean would be willing to teach him, as he pushed away from the truck and went to take a peek at the front.

The similarity between it and a famous Disney tow truck had him laughing, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Dean looked at him, eyebrow raised in question. Castiel just smirked and waved his hand dismissively. Dean sidled up beside him, his leather jacket brushing against Castiel's grey sweater as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, Dean leaning against him simultaneously.

"Please tell me you've changed your mind about picking her, and that you're laughing over how stupid you must feel." He dug his elbow into Cas' side, smirking when Castiel lowered his arm and tried to push Dean away.

"Knock it off, asshole." Castiel grumbled, getting his shoulder into Dean's bicep and shoving him away. "I'm dead serious about this. I mean, there's something about her… " Stepping away from Dean, he ran his fingers over the hood of the old truck, chips of paint flaking off. The tips of his fingers came back covered in rust.

Dean followed Castiel, as if magnetically drawn closer to him. His hand lightly grazed against Castiel's ass accidently, going unnoticed by the younger man. "I had a better car in mind for you, a nice little Mustang, used to be Cherry Red. Now, all she needs is a paint job, a little bit of this, a little bit of that." He looked down to meet blue eyes that were narrowed in a scowl. "What, you got something against Cherry Red? You can get her painted whatever damn color you want, Cas. Sheesh."

"It's not the fucking paint color, Dean, but honestly, Cherry Red _and_ a Mustang? Do I _look_ like the type of person that would be caught driving a fucking Mustang?!" Castiel paused until Dean shook his head sheepishly, a slight blush bringing out the freckles dusting his cheeks. He smiled and patted Dean on top of his head; it wouldn't have been a surprise if he had followed it with a "good boy."

"Thank you. So, if you're done with talking stupid, would you mind telling me what's wrong with her? And I don't mean the Mustang, you smart ass."

"I wasn't gonna say anything _about_ the Mustang, _Castiel_!" Dean threw his arms up in exasperation, even though he secretly was going to, just to drive Castiel crazy.

"You were thinking about it, Dean, so don't pull that shit on me."

Dean rolled his eyes, silently mocking him as he leaned into the truck through the driver's side window, the inner and outer door handle broken off on this door as well. Grasping the horizontal latch, located between the steering wheel and the door, he yanked on it until he heard a pop come from the front of the truck. Making his way back to where Castiel stood, he reached underneath the hood, and pushed up on the latch housed there. Pushing up, the stiff hood creaking, he held it up so that Castiel could inspect the inside.

"I'm guessing 'missing engine' would be way too obvious, huh?" he deadpanned as Dean let the hood slam shut, flecks of rust drifting like snow to the dirt below.

"No shit there, Sherlock," Dean retorted, snarkily, which earned him a well-earned punch in the arm. "Nice to know that's one thing I don't have to teach you when we start working on this." Castiel punched him again and Dean finally laughed while sauntering to the garage, Castiel in tow.

When they were inside the rear bumper of the Silverado fell off with a clamoring crash.

* * *

_The past few days after their agreement had been surprisingly pleasant between the two males. Castiel had figured that their lunch had been a fluke and that afterwards they wouldn't be able to stand one another, and that Dean would back out on his word after having to deal with Castiel's nagging. But the man stuck around.  
_

_Time permitted, Dean would drive up to the college to meet Cas. Sometimes they'd have lunch on campus if Cas had a class coming up, or sometimes Dean would pick him up and they'd head back to Cas' apartment. Kevin and Dean even got along swimmingly, putting their heads together and trying to figure out what type of car would be perfect for their friend. When Dean had started looking at him as a friend, well that was hard to pinpoint, but he couldn't imagine it any other way._

* * *

Halloween with a ten year old was interesting to say the least. The past couple of years Dean had been able to pressure Ben into dressing up as Batman, but what boy didn't _want_ to be Batman? This year though, Ben had had his mind set on his costume nearly five months ahead of time. Dean had no chance this year.

After picking up Lisa from Shot, the family of three walked the sidewalk, heading business to business, pleading for candy. Dean asked about Castiel and Lisa confessed that he was off because of his classes. He silently nodded.

After hitting all the participating stores, some more than once, they got into Dean's black '67 Chevrolet Impala, and drove to visit friend's that were staying home giving out candy. At some point their trek brought them near Castiel's apartment complex, and Dean was eager to have Ben meet his new friend. He just hoped he wouldn't be pissed about them stopping by unannounced.

* * *

Lisa stood behind Dean and Ben as they banged on the door and rang the doorbell relentlessly. She sometimes felt like she had two children instead of one.

Mid-knock the door flew open to reveal a very irritated Castiel, holding a bowl of popcorn, and wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a faded Blue October long sleeved concert tee.

* * *

Castiel fought back to the urge to cuss Dean out, and possibly rip the doorbell out just for good measure, when he noticed the boy, well _turtle_, beside him.

"Adopting reptiles now, Winchester? Well, at least you picked a mutated, ninja, teenage turtle, and the best one, too. Michelangelo, right?" Castiel crouched down in front of Ben, cradling the bowl on his knees. A green plastic head with orange painted across the face, from the cheeks to the forehead, nodded. Castiel could only hope and imagine there was a smile under there.

"So that means that you," he pointed at Lisa while standing back up, "must be April. Now, who the heck are you supposed to be?" Castiel turned his attention back to Dean, humming in deep thought.

"I'm Vernon Fenwick!" Dean exclaimed, as if any _idiot_ was supposed to know who the character was. Castiel only titled his head in confusion, trying to put together Dean's everyday clothing with the name he'd just spouted out. But before Dean could explain, Benny came up behind Cas, placing one hand on his shoulder, the other taking the popcorn bowl.

* * *

Dean focused solely on the hand that rested mere inches from Castiel's neck. It shouldn't have bothered him. He was married, _happily_ married, with a kid, and a wife, both of whom were _right_ there. He shouldn't care that his best friend was in the apartment of…

"I didn't know you and Cas were getting so close, Benny." Dean thanked God for Lisa's nosiness at that moment. Castiel turned and suddenly bolted back into the apartment leaving Benny to explain his reason for being there.

Dean excused himself and pushed past Benny, knocking on Castiel's bedroom door when he didn't see him in the living room. He took note of the fact that "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" had been playing on the television.

The sound of running water could be heard from the other side of the door, so Dean tried the doorknob, finding the door unlocked. Knocking once more, he eased the door open, calling out Cas' name as he stuck his head in the room.

Out of all the times Dean had been over, this was the first time he'd ever been in Cas' room, and he had to admit it fit the younger man. His eyes were drawn to the pictures of what he assumed to be were pictures of Cas and his mom. They varied from high school graduation to one that looked fairly recent.

"I suppose being rude must be a qualification for being a Winchester."

Dean spun around.

Castiel stood behind him with his hair and face still damp, his eyes looked red. Dean opened his mouth to ask about the outburst, but blurted out, "Yeah, my great-grandfather would always say it got started by my great-grandmother, but she always blamed his mom. It went on like that for years! The old mother-in-law rivalry, ya know? It never gets old."

"No, I wouldn't know, Dean. Now get the fuck out of my room, and kindly take Benny with you. I don't feel like having company at the moment."

Dean wanted to argue against him. He wanted to sit down and talk through whatever problems were going on with Castiel. But all he could do was lamely nod in self-defeat and leave the room, biting his lip when he heard the clicking of the doors lock. He turned and raised his hand up in an attempt to knock on the door, but decided against it and left the apartment. All he told Benny was that Castiel was making friends with the porcelain throne, and to probably call him in the morning. The ride home for the Winchester's was made in silence.

* * *

November brought cooler weather and Castiel still couldn't bring himself to face Dean. He spent more time at home in between classes and work; he even avoided Lisa which was a feat all in itself. Benny's calls went ignored and Kevin was told not to let him in. Dean never bothered contacting him, something which upset him more than it should. So when the day before Thanksgiving rolled around, it surprised him to find jade eyes peering at him from the other side of his front door, looking embarrassed and shy.

They watched each other, daring the other to speak first; Dean was the first to break. "I was wondering – well, _Lisa_ and I were wondering – if you'd wanna come over for Thanksgiving. You could bring Kevin if you wanted, and Benny would be there too." He looked down at his feet, feeling like the size of an ant under Castiel's steel gaze.

"Ben really likes you, ya know. The few minutes he saw, well, you really made an impression. He really wants you to come." He sighed and looked back up, staring into Castiel's cobalt blue eyes, instinctively stepping closer. "_I_ really want you to come."

Castiel blushed and faltered, holding on to the door. "No, Dean. I actually _do_ have a family, and I plan on spending the holiday with them. Kevin is doing the same. Of course, if you were any kind of friend, you would have known that. So once again the answer is no.

"You can tell Lisa and Ben that I'm sorry, but maybe another time." He brought his hand down to the knob and stepped back, pushing the door closed with his eyes lowered, when it was met with some resistant.

"WAIT!" Castiel looked up to see a hand between the door and door jamb. He let go of the door and so that Dean could push it open.

"Invite them, okay? With the amount of food Lisa makes every year I think she expects the US Army to raid our house at any given moment. So please Cas, just come over. Even if it's only just for thirty minutes. That's all I'm asking," Dean pleaded.

"It's been three weeks, Dean, and you've made no effort to contact me. Why the _fuck_ would I want to spend even one _second_ with you." Castiel snapped. He wasn't going to give into Dean that easily, the man was gonna have to work to get back into his good graces.

Dean, however, wasn't on board with that plan and had had enough of playing Mister Nice Guy with Castiel. "Why the fuck should it have been on my shoulders when _you're_ the one who kicked _me_ out. You're the one who ran like away like a goddamn pussy all because Lisa asked a damn question, which by the way, you never answered.

"_Are_ you and Benny getting closer? Should I have just expected you just to show up with him instead of driving all the way down here? Shit, how could I have been so stupid?! I _knew_ he'd been too happy lately. You must really be a good fuck, Cas. But with an ass like that, I wouldn't have expected anything less."

Castiel couldn't slam the door faster or harder enough, the walls shaking from the force. His face was red from a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and disappointment, but he held it together.

On the way to his room he informed Kevin to not let Dean in, and that if he didn't leave in five minutes to call Lisa to come get her fucktard of a husband.

* * *

The confines of his room were his sanctuary, his bed the cage.

Wrapping his comforter around himself like a cocoon, Castiel let the barriers down and sobbed. He let the words that Dean had thrown at him hit him like the bullets they were.

How stupid could be have been to actually believe that someone like Dean Winchester would want to be friends with someone like him. Through his tears he eyed the drawer of his bedside table, and he gave into his weakness. It had been three years, but he hadn't hurt this bad since then. Pulling open the drawer, he reached in and drew out the razor blade that had lain dormant since it had been placed there.

He couldn't even remember why he'd bought it. Maybe he had known; deep in the back of his mind, that another moment would come that would call for it. He was an addict to the feel of the blade.

Pushing his sleeve up, he pressed the blade amongst the many scars already adorning his left arm, ready to add more.

And he did.

The tears stopped, but still he cut. Lost in the sensation, he forgot he hadn't locked his door. He never realized that Kevin had stopped to check on his friend and roommate. He never knew that Kevin was standing in the doorway, watching silently as Castiel hurt himself.

Closing the door, the only sound being the soft 'click' as the latch caught the plate, he ran to his phone and scrolled through the names. There were two people that came to mind: one would absolutely have a shit fit and break every law to get there, the other would be there _just_ to be there.

Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind and pressed the name, crossing his fingers they would answer.

* * *

After getting the call from Kevin the night prior, Benny had decided it would be best to give Castiel some time to settle. So instead, Kevin invited him for Thanksgiving.

Anna and Mrs. Tran – Linda – welcomed their unexpected guest with open arms. Castiel was skeptical at first, but remained cordial, ignoring his mother's _looks_. He really didn't want to know what was going on in her over protective, mother bear, "shoot the balls off of any one who looks at my son" mind. Deciding to stick close to Benny, if only for the sake of protecting the man, they both stuck with their "we're just friends" story – it was the truth, after all.

However, the fact that they were now outside, sitting on the platform between the second and third floors, wasn't helping to back up their story on bit.

"Wanna talk about it?" Benny asked, his arm wrapped protectively around Castiel's shoulders, the younger man's head nestled in the crook of his arm. Castiel shook his head and moved in closer to Benny, if it were even possible, chasing the warmth the muscular man was providing.

"Not really," he murmured, closing his eyes and taking in the scent that he had begun to associate with Benny. It was similar to Dean's in that it held hints of the car garage, but beneath his old school aftershave was the smell of pine and autumn itself. It was one of the things that made Castiel want to curl up in Benny and stay there until he fell into a blissful sleep.

"Well I think there is, Cher, because I didn't just show up here to grace you with my charming presence." He rubbed his hand over Castiel's arm as he spoke with the hint of a smile. "Kevin called me last night. Said that Dean stopped by and that you two got into it. He also said that you slammed the door, said a few words to him, then went to your room. He didn't remember how much time passed, but he went to check up on you and your door was unlocked. When he opened the door…" He let his voice trail off and waited for Castiel's reaction.

It didn't take long.

Castiel looked up at him through his dark, thick lashes as Benny spoke, and when Benny looked down he saw something in Castiel's eyes that he'd never seen before – shame. Benny turned so he could hug Castiel to his chest, and the tears came. His body shook as he told Benny, through hiccups and sniffles, about the confrontation the night before. Castiel felt the hold on him tighten as his words trickled past his lips.

When he was done, exhausted and spent, Benny slid the sleeve of Castiel's sweater up. He brought up Castiel's left arm and peppered kisses over fresh cuts and faded scars.

They stayed like that, blocking out everything around them. That included the familiar rumble and screeching tires, which faded into the background.

* * *

_"So what made you get into psychology?" Dean inquired as he took a giant bite out of his cheeseburger, some of it spreading out and getting on his hands. He sat it down and licked his hands free of the chili and condiments before using a napkin.  
_

_Castiel wrinkled his nose in disgust.  
_

_"Personal stuff. I actually started studying it a long time ago, but shit happened and now I'm back to try it again. This time I plan on succeeding though, because I don't plan on getting caught up in the same crap I did back then." He dipped his french fry in a mixture of mayo and ketchup and chomping down on it, smiling when Dean's face took on a green tinge.  
_

_"Does it have to do with the whole 'staying single' thing that Lisa was going on about? And how in the _hell_ can you _eat_ that?! That has got to be the grossest thing I've ever seen someone eat, and I've seen and eaten some weird shit." Dean shuttered, his stomach turning as Castiel continued to eat the odd mixture with elation.  
_

_"Asshole," he muttered. He wondered if he'd be able to even _finish_ his burger now.  
_

_"You know what…" Castiel took a fry and heavily coated it in the mixture, then leaned over the table, grinning. "Just try this."  
_

_Dean opened his mouth to say no, but it only resulted in him having a fry shoved in his mouth. As he chewed, his expression slowly morphed from repulsion to ecstasy, and Castiel grinned as he stared into Dean's eyes smugly.  
_

_"And no, it's not a 'staying single' thing. It's a 'being in love thing.'"_

* * *

Benny took Dean's place in helping Castiel with the truck.

Things went smoothly for the most part, though Castiel was usually tense around Lisa, which led to him making stupid mistakes at work. Lisa would blame it on his lack of sleep, to which he would deny the fact. It was obvious just from looking at his eyes that that was a lie.

He wished he could tell her the reason, but he would just snap at her and leave.

Benny and Kevin were the only ones that understood.

* * *

Night had already fallen when the last bus of the night dropped Castiel off at the garage. Benny wasn't expected to be there for another hour, but he needed some time alone to get his aggressions out, and the Silverado was looking like a good target right about now. Gathering the toolbox that had been hidden just for him, he went to the truck and got started.

The side view mirrors were first.

Taking out the hammer, not even bothering with the protective goggles, he picked it up and swung it, the flat head making contact with the already shattered glass. The larger chunks fell to the ground; smaller pieces flew forward, scattering in his sweater. He ignored them and swung again and again, until the only thing left was metal.

Moving to the other side he repeated the process, his hands and face now sparkling as if dusted with diamonds.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when a hand fell on his shoulder.

Spinning around, he came face to face with Dean. Seeing him here, and now, made Castiel think back to the last time they were here. Back when they were friends. He hated to admit that he missed Dean's company and that seeing him now…

He wanted to forgive him and forget about everything that happened. But it wasn't in his nature.

Stepping around Dean, he headed for the back of the truck, swinging the hammer leisurely at his side. Dean followed but remained a good distance behind, especially when red tinted plastic started flying.

When Castiel was done with the first tail light, Dean grabbed him by the arm and turned him around, searching his eyes as he spoke. "Could we please talk about that night? There are some things I need to say to you, and I'm pretty sure there's some things you need to scream at me."

Calmly and collectively, Castiel stared Dean in the eyes and said one simple word. "No."

"Do you enjoy saying that word to me?" Dean retorted sarcastically as Castiel's eyebrows narrowed into a glare.

"Then I'll say it a different way then. Non. Nein. Ni. Is that better?" He retorted back with just as much sarcasm as Dean gave. "Now let go of me, you goddamn asshole."

"Not until you listen to me!" Dean tightened his grip on Castiel's arm, pulling him closer. "All I want to do is fucking apology for that night, so just let me do that okay? Then you can get back to doing whatever the hell it is you're doing, and I'll leave you and Benny alone."

"You see that? It's comments like that one _right there _that pisses me off, Dean. You can apologize all you want to, but if you're gonna continue to assume that Benny and I are together, then there's no need to. So you might as well shove it up your ass."

"But I saw you two…" Dean slightly loosened his grip, his certainty suddenly slipping, becoming mixed with confusion.

Castiel raised an eyebrow in question. "Saw us what, Dean? Because I can promise you, _right here_, that we haven't done a damn thing, even though it isn't any of your business to begin with."

"I saw you two kissing alright! Well maybe not _kissing_, but Benny was kissing your arm, and you didn't exactly shove him down the stairs or anything." He confessed, guilty and slightly annoyed.

* * *

He knew he shouldn't have been spying that night, but he had stopped by Castiel's apartment to apologize, once again, when he saw the two men on the stairs. Whatever they were talking about wasn't important because he was focused on the way they were sitting together. He would never sit like that with a friend, and he certainly wouldn't kiss a friends arm like that either.

So he left and if he stopped by a bar and got plastered after that, well it was his goddamn business and no one else's.

Dean suddenly found himself shoved to the ground with a very pissed off Castiel on top of him, straddling his waist. Looking up at Castiel he couldn't help but feel aroused at how fucking beautiful he was at that moment. Unruly black hair that was blanketed by the stars above, framed his flushed, pale face. Narrowed sapphire eyes glowed underneath thick lashes.

Dean had to stop himself from leaning up and crashing his lips against Castiel's, curious of how stubble against _very_ slight stubble would feel, but a sharp, searing pain helped him in his quest for self-restraint.

He was pretty sure he was interrupting Castiel's tirade, which he hadn't been listening to begin with, when he tried to wiggle out from under Castiel, but it only made the pain worse. Crying out he grabbed hold of Castiel's thigh and squeezed tightly to get the man's attention.

* * *

Castiel, having once again gotten caught up doing something, didn't notice Dean's predicament until he looked down to see Dean's face distorted in pain. Shifting a leg off of him so that he was on his knees beside Dean, Castiel leaned forward with his face inches from the man below him. "Hey, what happened?" he inquired, and as if by instinct, he caressed Dean's cheek in concern.

Dean closed his eyes and leaned into Castiel's touch. "Don't know. Shoulder fucking hurts though," he hissed.

Leaning over him, Castiel griped Dean's lower arm and waist, and then rolled him on to his side. The sound of Dean groaning accompanied the whole procedure. Peering over him Castiel felt his stomach turn and had to hold back his gag reflex. He didn't remember having dropped the hammer. He swore he still had it in his hand when they were talking, but then he had shoved Dean and the hammer was …

"We gonna have to amputate, Doc? You can tell me the bad news, I can handle it, I promise." Dean joked, but Castiel could hear the fear in his voice and it made him feel even guiltier, so he decided to roll with it.

"Diagnosis doesn't look too good, Mr. Winchester, but for your troubles you'll be blessed with a strip tease from Dr. Sexy here."

Holding onto Dean with one hand, Castiel used his teeth to hold onto the cuff of his sweater sleeve so he could pull his arm back toward his chest. Letting go of the sleeve and dropping his arm to the underside of his hem, he lifted the sweater over his head. Switching hands, he shook his arm causing the sweater to fall to the ground. Picking up the sweater and bundling it, he used it to push the hammer away, ignoring the blood on the claws, before placing it under Dean. Gently, he pushed him back so that his wound was pressed against the sweater.

Falling back on his ass, wiping the sweat from his brow, he's met with a wolf whistle. "Shut up, Dean."

"What? Can't I show my appreciation to Dr. Sexy since there's no Hello Nurse?" He smirked, eyes dancing over Castiel's chest. He may not have been sporting a six pack, but Dean could deal with the flat span of flesh that was beginning to sport goose bumps.

"Do you usually go around shirtless under those sweaters or was this a special occasion, Sexy? It's okay if I call you Sexy, right?"

Castiel kicked Dean's leg playfully before hugging his knees to his chest, remaining silent as he stared at Dean.

"What?"

* * *

"Would you stop staring at me like that and answer the damn question! It's really creeping me out, Cas. There, I won't call you Sexy, even if I think you are. Oh shit, I did not just say that! _SEE_, this is why you should talk, because I end up saying dumb shit." Dean probably would have rolled over if it wouldn't have killed him, so he settled for groaning and hiding behind one hand. At least until he heard Castiel laugh.

"You don't need me being quiet to say 'dumb shit'; you do that just fine on your own. Thanks for the compliment, by the way, though I don't believe you."

Dean lowered his hand to find Castiel still staring at him, but now with his cheek resting on his knees. The pose that Castiel sat in made him want to get up and hug the younger man, protect him from whatever the world had possibly thrown at him. He looked so fragile like that. "Well, if you're just gonna insult me, maybe you should just keep your cakehole shut."

Castiel smirked, "I was keeping quiet so you could talk, you assbutt. That's what you wanted to do wasn't it?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

They stared at each. Dean tried to get the words to form sentences that made some sort of sense, which was becoming increasingly hard with Castiel's focus on him. Castiel just watched him as his expressions changed with each thought.

"I'm sorry." Castiel motioned for him to continue. "I don't know what else to say, I didn't expect you to actually talk to me, figured it would turn into another fight. Well it kinda did, but – Cas get your ass over here before you freeze to death." Dean stretched his good arm out toward Castiel, who was now shivering.

"It's only in the 50's Dean, I'm fine. Now keep talking."

"Not until you get your ass over here! It's not gonna kill you to lie down next to me. Sheesh."

Castiel gave in, much to Dean's dismay, and actually snuggled next to him. Dean wished he could get his jacket off or do _anything_ to help keep Castiel warm, but for right now this would have to do. A muffled "okay, keep talking" came from Castiel, who had his face buried in Dean's side, and all Dean could was chuckle.

"Fine, fine, I'm talking, Bossy Butt. Let's see… I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say, I didn't expect you to actually talk to me, figured it would turn into another fight. Even though it kinda did, at least it turned out for the better – sorta. Cas, I don't know why I act like I do when I get around you, but there's just something about you. You're so stubborn and a pain in the ass –"

"Geez thanks, Winchester," came a muffled, sarcastic retort.

"Shut up, Cas! You're just proving my point here. You really _are_ a pain in the ass, but it's so fucking… I don't know. I like it. I guess that's it." He found himself unconsciously playing with the loose strands of Castiel's hair that lay at the nape of his neck. Looking to the side he found a pair of blue eyes looking at his curiously.

"You sure have a way with words dontcha?" he whispered as his eyes searched Dean's. He made no move to stop Dean's fidgeting, but actually seemed to be put at ease by it.

"Shut up, Cas." He leaned over slightly, hissing in pain as he did. Castiel tried to stop him, but Dean shook his head and smiled. "There's something else I need to tell you, and I think you really need to hear it." Stilling his fingers, he cupped the back of Castiel's neck and lightly pushed his head closer. "I'm gonna kiss you now."

"There are _two_ very important problems with that, mister," Castiel whispered, his lips now ghosting Dean's, eyes half lidded. "And you sound pretty sure of yourself. Who says I'm gonna let you kiss me?"

Dean groaned and clutched his fingers in Castiel's hair. "The only problem I can think of is you saying no, and I really can't see you doing that. But if you _do _say no, I won't kiss you Cas. I promise. No matter how hard it is right now, no matter how much its killing me right now, I won't do it."

"No."

Dean felt his heart plummet, but he let his hand drop from the back of Castiel's neck and rolled back, but he didn't make it far. A hand shot out and grabbed his jacket, jerking him forward. "I won't say no."

That was all that needed to be said.

* * *

Castiel took control, his lips crushing against Dean's. He'd always been the submissive one in all his relationships, but Dean seemed to always relent and hand the reins over to him. It was new to him, and as the kiss that had started off intense became lazy, Dean's lips opened and just like that, power changed hands.

He opened his mouth at the feel of Dean's tongue brushing across his lips, melting in the arm that was now wrapped around his waist, as Dean's tongue swept the inside of his mouth. Releasing his hold on the mechanic's jacket, he slid his hand up the man's chest and rubbed his neck, before cupping his jaw. Sweeping his thumb of Dean's stubble, he whimpered when Dean drew back gasping for air.

Smiling and placing a loving kiss on Castiel's nose, Dean escaped his hold as he fell back on the ground with a groan. "Sorry, but unless you're into that whole 'getting freaky with dead people' thing, I kinda need to breath."

Rolling his eyes, Castiel ignored the comment and leaned over him, trying to get a view of the wound. He knew they'd have to get out of here soon and get Dean to a doctor, he didn't want to risk infection and he was starting to feel the temperature drop considerably.

Just then he heard a door open and slam shut. Looking up he saw Benny standing there.

* * *

The ride to the hospital was quiet.

Benny didn't ask any questions about Castiel's state of undress, Dean's wound, or why they both _looked_ slightly debauched. Castiel stared out the window of the truck, his time at the garage playing through his head until Benny tapped him on the shoulder, letting him know he was home.

Dean tried to talk to him as he got out, but Castiel ignored him and rushed inside. He made a beeline for his room and turned his phone off. After a warm shower he laid in bed until he eventually passed out. He didn't know how he was going to face Lisa the next day.

* * *

"Not gonna talk about it are ya?" Benny looked at Dean's reflection in the rear view mirror, his best friend glaring at this cellphone.

"There's nothing _to_ talk about. Just a rough night is all." Tossing his phone to the floorboard he muttered, "son of a bitch."

* * *

_Castiel absentmindedly pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. It was the first time that Dean had ever seen his bare arms.  
_

_Trying not to stare he looked the right one over first, not really seeing anything spectacular or hideous about it. That was when he saw his left arm. "What's wrong with love?" He looked away when Castiel pulled his sleeves down.  
_

_"Nothing, I suppose. I mean, I know lots of happily married people, but in the words of KoЯn, 'I'm never gonna love again, If I'm gonna have to try to pretend.'"  
_

_"Sooo I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you had a bad relationship right?" Dean leaned forward and stole a fry, dipping it in Castiel's ketchup and mayo.  
_

_He swatted Dean away and shook his head, laughing at Dean's scowl. "Yeah, okay, 'bad relationship,' we'll go with that. Now c'mon I gotta go or I'll be late for class!" And before Dean could make a grab for the fries, Castiel threw them away._

* * *

Edited November 10, 2014


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: First off I want to thank all of you who have commented, followed, favorited, and just flat out read this fic. I don't think you realize how much it means me that this is actually being acknowledged and that I'm not wasting my time. **

**This started out being a way for me to get things off of my shoulders and I didn't really care what people thought, but somewhere along the line I lost track of that and began to self-doubt this work. So to know that there are people out there who are enjoying this... well it means a lot.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen  
Have I Got a Long Way to Run?  
**

The next morning Castiel started packing his bags. He was already on winter break and had planned on going home for Christmas. What were a few days anyway?

"What happened last night?" Kevin yawned from behind him, and from the groans he was giving, he was also stretching.

Castiel rolled his eyes, folded a pair of jeans, and stuffed them in the duffel bag. "What makes you think something happened last night?" He questioned as he turned around to look at Kevin, who was now leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking half asleep. He could just make out the indentions from where the keys of Kevin's keyboard had pressed into his cheek.

"Well, the fact that you're running away is a large clue. So is the fact that I saw you come in last night half undressed." Kevin retorted, sounding surprisingly alert considering his posture and demeanor.

Turning back around and zipping up the bag, he moved on to the next one, blushing. Gathering the books for the next semester, he placed them at the bottom of the bag before laying his folded shirts on top of them. "So what."

"So what?!" Kevin screeched. "So you need to tell me what happened between you and Benny last night. I know his truck when I see it, Castiel."

Castiel froze for a moment before making his way to the bathroom to gather his toiletries. When he returned Kevin was still in the same spot watching him, but Castiel continued to remain silent. It was after what felt like an hour had passed before Kevin finally left, muttering under his breath. The soft padding of his footsteps filled the silent apartment, the sound of his door opening and closing echoed through the hallway shortly after.

Once he knew Kevin wasn't coming out, he quickly finished packing, shot a quick text to his mom to pick him up, and lugged the two loaded down duffel bags downstairs. It wasn't that cold for this time of year, so he sat on the sidewalk and waited. He probably had to wait three hours, but right now he really needed the air and time to think.

Alone.

* * *

"Talk."

"There's nothing to talk about, okay?"

"Castiel James Milton, talk right now or this car isn't leaving this parking lot," Anna demanded. She looked at her son, who was right now looking anywhere but at her. "I know there's something going on so you might as well spill it."

"If you're so smart then why don't you tell me what's wrong," he snapped immaturely, growing agitated. It was at that moment, of course, that a black Impala whipped into the parking lot.

Looking in the rear view mirror he watched as Dean parked in Castiel's designated spot, got out the car, and slammed the door shut. He was wearing his infamous leather jacket, and if the white fabric strap was any indication, a sling. Castiel could only imagine the gash in the upper left corner of his shoulder.

"– so I figured that jackass Benny must have done something, and if he did, just say so. You know I know people."

Castiel looked as his mom as Dean made his way up the first flight of stairs. "Mom you don't know anyone but those weirdos you call coworkers. So shut up, drive, and I promise I'll talk." A forced, playful smile tugged on his lips as he checked the mirror again.

Dean was at the middle of the second set of stairs.

"Was it Benny?"

"Huh? Was what Benny? What are you even talking about?" Castiel forgot about Dean for a moment and stared at his mom as if she had just grown two heads.

"Is he the reason we're here right now," she responded, exasperated.

Castiel couldn't help but scoff as he rolled his eyes. "Of course not, now will you please drive!" He demanded as he turned completely around to see Dean and Kevin on the platform between the first and second floor, looking directly in the direction of the car.

It was as if everything in the car were going in slow motion. Anna gripped the wheel and reached out to take the gear shift. The process, which should have taken all of ten seconds, felt like it took ten minutes. On the outside, Dean was just descending the last set of stairs and it scared Castiel to think what would happen if Dean did catch them.

It was then that things went back to normal. As they were driving forward Castiel turned back around to look from the rear view mirror. He couldn't name the emotion he felt as he watched Dean, gasping for air in front of the Impala, watched them as they drove away.

Anna looked in her side view mirror and smirked, before looking at Castiel. "Oh, so that's why. Well, this should be an interesting story. Also, don't underestimate what a few weirdos can do." She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "So what did the asshole do and do I need to go kick his ass?"

He couldn't help but smile at the overprotective nature of his mother. It was something that still annoyed him, yet always made him feel loved... wanted. "What happened to your merry band of coworkers?"

"I can take him on my own," she stated self-assuredly.

"Sure ya can." He leaned away from her touch to rest his head on the window with a sigh. "His name is Dean, _not_ asshole, as you so lovingly put it – and he didn't do anything. Well not entirely."

Rolling his eyes at Anna as she give him "The Look," the one that said that her child could do no wrong, he couldn't help but snort. "Oh don't give me that look. You know me; I don't exactly set out to make people's lives easier." He sighed again and closed his eyes, tilting his head up toward the sun. "It's push and pull with us. Two pulls forwards and five pushes back. It's complicated."

"Well how do you feel about him? I know that after Balthazar you made if perfectly clear that you wanted to work on your own issues. Do you think you can trust him?" Anna cast a side glance in Castiel's direction, only to see him biting his lip in deep thought.

"I'm confused by the way I feel. I just wanna go back to being friends, but after last night I know it's not possible." He felt a tear trail down his cheek. "Besides, as much as I want to trust him, I know I can't trust someone who's doing what dad did to you."

"What do you mean?"

He rolled his head in her direction, opening his eyes which were now red. "Last night we got in to an argument and Dean got hurt. While we were waiting for Benny, Dean started talking, and one thing lead to another. And we kissed. I didn't want to kiss him – but I did at the same time."

"So the whole thing about him being like your dad?" she inquired, feeling completely at a loss by her son's confession.

"He's married to Lisa – my boss – and they have a kid together."

* * *

The rest of the drive was spent in silence between mother and son. Castiel was soon lulled to sleep by the warmth of the winter sun, the motion of the car, and the lyrics that wrapped themselves around him.

_So when I'm ready to be bolder, and my cuts have healed with time  
Comfort will rest on my shoulder, and I'll bury my future behind  
I'll always keep you with me; you'll be always on my mind  
But there's a shining in the shadows  
I'll never know unless I try_

* * *

He dreamt in black and white. He dreamt of Dean and Lisa walking away, hand in hand. He dreamt of them leaving the Silverado behind, which had been completely stripped.

* * *

The deep holes that had been worn into the long, dirt driveway jostled the car, waking Castiel. Stretching out like a cat in the compact Toyota Camry, he ignored his mom's smile.

Stepping out of the car when they came to a stop beside the house, he looked around and couldn't deny the fact that he had missed the place. When he was younger he had hated the fact that they always had to drive nearly an hour to get anywhere, but now… now he craved _this_.

The sound of his mom opening and closing the car doors as she took out his bags broke the overall silence. Hiding in a bush or tree were a pair of Cardinals, chirping a melody. There was the sound of rustling dead leaves tumbling over the dry grass from the light breeze. The high pitched tinkling of wind chimes and the billowing of sheets catching in said breeze. They all combined together to create the tranquil symphony that was home.

The smell of paint was fresh in the air, but he could still make out the scent of pine. Walking away from the car and toward the back yard, the scent became stronger. Inhaling deeply, he thought of Christmas and climbing an old pine when he was 6-years old. It was hard to believe that he used to be that fearless. The further he walked, the cleaner the air became, soon it was that crisp, winter scent he always knew.

The light breeze became a gust and Castiel wrapped his arms around himself. The briskness nipped at his skin, cutting through the sweater he was wearing. The warmth of the sun, in contrast to the cold, had him turning around and heading back toward the house.

As he walked along the path he'd created, he lifted his head to stare at the pristine blue skies that reminded him of the crayons he had used as a child. Stretching up to reach the sky, he instead grazed the branches of an old willow tree. Grabbing them as he walked forward, he let go to let. The branches launch backward, reverberating.

Looking forward as he continued his walk, Castiel looked around the twenty some acre land that he grew up on. He watched the white bed sheets flutter on the clothesline. He took note of the minute changes that had occurred in the year since he'd last visited.

The vinyl siding of the two story house had been painted white, the sun reflecting off the fresh coat and the new metal roof. He kinda missed the sight of the old black shingles that used to be there.

The chimney that had always stood proud was gone; he would miss that the most. Even though he knew he would always have his memories of past Christmases spent in front of a roaring fire. Or falling asleep on Christmas Eve to the flickering of the flames dancing in the shadows of his room from the stairs below, as his mom stayed awake finishing up with the milk and cookies for Santa.

When he entered the house through the back door, Anna stood in the kitchen smiling, and told him that someone had called his phone several times. Thanking her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, he made his way through the living room and up the stairs to his room.

Nothing had changed in here. His room was simply white, with dark blue and white bedding. Awards and family photos lined the walls, some books he hadn't wanted to carry around were still stuffed in the bookcase, and his desk still had a notebook and some pens waiting to be used.

Unzipping his bags, he started unpacking. Hanging up shirts, placing jeans in the dresser drawers by his window, and shelving his text books, he came across his phone and remembered the call. He quickly turned the phone off, not bothering to see who it was from. Placing it in an empty drawer, he opened a window to let some fresh air in, and went back down stairs.

When Anna asked who'd called he said it was an unknown caller. She just nodded wordlessly.

* * *

Days before Christmas were spent reading text books, walking around the land and trying to get his thoughts straight. Then Anna would come home and they would start decorating.

The stair railing was wrapped in garland that Anna looped with clear lights. Santa figurines and poinsettias littered table tops. Christmas cards topped the mantle of the fireplace that she had kept, which now housed a rustic candelabra with apple cinnamon scented candles. Hanging below the cards were two stockings, an "A" and a "C" on each. Castiel rolled his eyes at the stockings that had been around since he was a kid.

* * *

Getting a tree was… lackluster.

Since it was so close to the holiday, and Anna had wanted a real tree, they ended up with what Castiel deemed a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. He was exaggerating, of course, but it wasn't a tree like they usually had.

While not exactly _pathetic_, the short slender tree was dry and needles littered the beige carpet of the living room, and they hadn't gotten it on the stand yet! There was no arguing with Anna though, she just made sure it was supported, gave it plenty of water, and sent Castiel up to fetch the tree decorations.

He warned her that the place would go up like a roman candle if she put lights on it. She ignored him and went about vacuuming the carpet.

* * *

He had to admit, as he peered down from his place on the stairs, that the tree looked good – albeit a fire hazard. They had had to cut down on the lights and their traditional star had been replaced with a bow (the poor tree couldn't support their tradition tree topper.) But their array of family ornaments made him forget about it. As he sat down and rested his head against the railing, his eyes danced between each ornament, remembering the reason behind them all.

This was what the holiday was about.

* * *

Anna couldn't hold back her laughter as she pulled up to the entrance of the mall to drop Castiel off.

It was the weekend before Christmas, which meant that all of the retail stores were swamped with last minute shoppers – like Castiel. With a designated pick-up time of three hours, Castiel got out of the car, cursed his mom for having the sense to have done all her shopping online this year, and cautiously made his way into the mall.

He was pretty sure there was a limit to the amount of people allowed in one building, and he was pretty sure that number was quadrupled right now. Thankful to the fact he wasn't bulky, he managed to make his way through the sea of people, weaving and ducking between bodies, until he came to his first stop.

* * *

The comic book store had a slightly larger crowd than he thought, but it was a safe haven at least, and he decided to take his time before going out again. He took in the sights of the Marvel, DC, and various other t-shirts and posters hanging from the walls.

Shelves of Blu-rays and DVDs lined one set of walls; the other was lined with video games for various game systems. In the middle of the store was the checkout counter, which was a glass case filled with retro video games and other memorabilia, the register resting on top. To the right of the case were boxes upon boxes of comics. To the left were shirts, life size cut-outs, and retro arcade games.

Making a beeline toward the comics, he began a mad search for his treasure. As he searched, he began to think it was a lost cause; there were plenty of comics he had and hadn't heard of, but the ones he was looking –

Snatching up the remaining the titles from the box, he grinned wildly as he dashed to the counter and slammed them down, rather unceremoniously. If he also bought a Batman figurine because he'd heard a certain bowlegged man loved the DC hero… Well that was his business.

Thanking the two men who, oddly enough, reminded him of Abbot and Costello, he eyed the video games in the case before making his way out into the mob and on to his next stop.

* * *

The next store was a quickie. He knew Lisa liked their lotions, so he purchased a couple of bottles and bolted out of there just as he let out a rather large and unpleasant sneeze.

God he _hated_ that store!

* * *

At the bookstore's café he bought a Gingerbread Latte and decided to sit down and rest. Looking at the clock hanging from the wall he still had an hour and a half, and only three more gifts to purchase. Grabbing a napkin and borrowing a pen from one of the barista's, he began to make a list of the last three presents to make his trip around the mall faster.

At the bookstore he grabbed Kevin a copy of one of the many zombie survival guides that were available. He figured he'd give Kevin a gag gift for the integration he'd had to endure when he left.

Trudging into the next store, exhausted and ready to go home, he snatched up a beanie (plus one that looked like Jayne's from Firefly), and dashed out.

* * *

By now the sound of the crowd and Christmas music blaring overhead had become a constant buzzing in his ear, like an annoying mosquito on a summer's night. He was becoming agitated and ready to get the fuck out of this hellhole.

While rushing by a jewelry store, a thin gold chain with a small angel winged dagger caught his eye. For some reason it reminded him of Anna and he couldn't help but purchase it. Anna wasn't big on jewelry but maybe she'd make an exception just this once.

The last stop, thank fuck, was to grab their yearly ornament. If he also happened to pick up one that looked remarkably like a certain '67 Chevrolet Impala, well that was his business.

* * *

Christmas Eve found Castiel sitting on the back porch steps in black sweats, staring up at a star filled sky. The air was warmer than he would have liked it to be, which edged the depression he was feeling, on more. He'd been feeling lonely the past few days, and found himself getting lost in his head and thoughts. He thought about what he'd left miles away and if he'd done the right thing by leaving like he did.

He began to reminiscence about a music box that he had had when he was younger. Anna would turn it on to lull him to sleep the nights before Christmas. It would play "Silent Night."

Humming the first few bars, the sound breaking the stillness of pitch black night, he began to sing.

_Silent night, broken night  
All is fallen when you take your flight  
I found some hate for you  
Just for show  
You found some love for me  
Thinking I'd go  
Don't keep me from crying to sleep  
Sleep in heavenly peace  
_

Standing up and dusting himself off, he turned and headed inside. The lights of the small Christmas tree put off enough glow for him to make his way to the stairs. Stopping at the first step he smiled at the tree before heading up. Walking down the hall he began to sing again in a hushed tone as he checked on Anna.

_Silent night, moonlit night  
Nothing's changed  
Nothing is right  
I should be stronger than weeping alone  
You should be weaker than sending me home  
I can't stop you fighting to sleep  
Sleep in heavenly peace_

Crawling into his own bed, Castiel cried himself to sleep wishing there someone was there to hold him.

* * *

Stumbling downstairs the next morning, dark hair mussed up and sticking every which way, Castiel rubbed his eyes clear as his ears were abruptly assaulted by high pitched singing.

He was willing to forgive the awful music choice, though, when the smell of fresh made pancakes came wafting from the kitchen. Anna's music choices were always atrocious, but her pancakes more than made up for it. By-passing the presents he set a direct course for the kitchen.

* * *

"Deck the Halls" played on the radio while the Christmas parade on the television came to an end. Castiel made his way through the sea of wrapping and tissue paper, gift boxes and bags, in search of the spare remote controller to the game system he'd received. He was in the mood to kick his Anna's ass at Super Mario Bros. and he wanted to see if she still remembered how to play after 25 years.

Finally finding the damned thing in a gift bag, he started the game up just as "Purple Snowflakes" began to play.

Anna switched off the radio, saying the music was a distraction. He didn't say anything, just watched as Mario defeated Goombas, his heart racing from the song.

Balthazar's favorite Christmas song.

* * *

The weekend after Christmas was filled with mother/son bonding time which included Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter. Castiel ignored any and all of Anna's questions regarding the men in and out of his life. He regretted bringing up the topic of Dean and wished he had handled his reaction to the song better. The last thing he needed was a reoccurrence of three years ago. She had tried to weasel her way into his personal life and he didn't need that at this time. Just like back then, if he didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to talk.

* * *

When she went back to work he began to walk again, day and night.

And thought.

He thought of all the questions Anna had asked him. He took the notebook and pen from the desk in his room and wrote to get the thoughts from his head.

By the time a week had passed he still had no answers for himself, just more questions. So he tucked the notebook in the desk drawer.

Maybe he'd come back during Spring Break and continue it.

* * *

January was a welcome relief. It was a new year, he was finally rid of his cabin fever, and a new semester started. Plus he received his gifts from Kevin and Benny when he returned. A mystery package was handed to him by Benny, which he sat aside.

He handed Benny his gifts to Lisa and Ben (lotions and original TMNT comics – not the crap from today), Dean's gifts remained stashed away in his duffel bag.

Kevin rolled his eyes at Castiel's gift; Benny wore his beanie with pride in the 80 degree apartment.

Castiel eyed the Grumpy Cat keychain questioningly, and then raised an eyebrow at Benny who just shrugged. He was speechless as he stared at the Sonic the Hedgehog game cartridge in his hand. Kevin was now his favorite person in the world now.

* * *

February brought Valentine's Day. Castiel hated Valentine's Day and the reminders it brought with it.

Couples entered the café hand-in-hand. Flowers were delivered to his coworkers. It felt as if the world wanted to torture him for his decision on remaining single. It especially felt that way when a large bouquet of two dozen red roses was delivered to Lisa by Dean. It especially felt that way when Lisa led Dean up the stairs to her office. And it especially felt that way when Dean ignored him.

Benny was there though.

Dropping down on one knee, wearing that damned beanie that Castiel had gifted him with for Christmas; he pulled out a single red rose from behind his back and held it up to Castiel grinning like a fool. Castiel took it and smacked Benny on the arm.

He never noticed Dean glaring down at the duo as his coworkers cheered and laughed around them.

* * *

Benny had yanked Castiel down onto his raised knee as a shadow fell over them, a questioning "Castiel?" causing him to stiffen and look up.

Eyes lighter than his own stared down upon him, sparkling with amusement. His light brown hair was tousled, most likely from the hefty gusts of wind outside. Or it could have been on purpose – it was hard to say. His face had a glow that Castiel had seen on everyone's face today: the sickeningly glow of _love._

The boy's face looked familiar and if he was correct, it had been three years, in black and white, on the arm on his ex-fiancé. It was quite possibly the last person he would ever want to meet.

"Adam?"

The boy nodded and reached out to help Castiel up, who was scrambling to get off of Benny's leg. Thanking him while feeling his face warm, Castiel took notice of the ring on Adam's left ring finger, and noting how un-engagment ring like it was.

The band was black with an onyx in the center, surrounded by silver. On each side of the stone was a groove filled with black cable wire. Castiel couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Without any comprehension of what he was doing Castiel rubbed his thumb over the ring, entranced. He knew what the ring was; he really didn't need for Adam to confirm that the ceremony had been earlier that day. That his _husband_ had planned the entire thing, that they had written their own vows and that there hadn't been a dry eye among the guests. But Castiel smiled and faked his happiness like he did most days.

He congratulated Adam and wished them well, just when Balthazar came to stand behind the younger man.

The room suddenly felt hot and the walls were closing in. Castiel felt his stomach turning and heart racing. The need to run took over at that moment, so he decided to run.

He knew how it looked but he didn't care.

Shrugging Benny's hand from his shoulder, not remembering when the event had occurred, he made a mad dash from the café. A mixture of voices cried out behind him but they fell on deaf ears.

He tore down the sidewalk and away from the past. He wasn't ready to face it.

* * *

Benny found him a few blocks away, sitting on the steps of a Mom 'n Pop shop that had closed for the weekend. He sat down beside Castiel and held him close. The question hung above them and Castiel let it dangle.

Cars drove by and pedestrians walked around them. The air grew colder and time went on. They eventually stood up and made their way to the truck in silence.

Benny drove, Castiel sat in silence.

He didn't have to ask where they we're going.

* * *

"When – I don't – I don't understand. When did this happen?" Castiel walked around the Silverado, dragging his hand across the flawless exterior. He could imagine this was what the old truck must have looked like the day it came off the factory line. The black and white paint shimmed in the setting sun. The vinyl bench seat had been restored but replaced with leather; everything else in the interior appeared to be in its original form – even the radio. "Who did all this?"

Castiel looked at Benny inquisitively, Benny smirked. "The same person who gave you the damn key for Christmas."

"What key?" Castiel cocked his head to the side, confused.

* * *

Castiel hated Valentine's Day.

Sitting on the balcony in silence, staring at his phone, he scrolled through the numbers on his screen. He always came back to the one that was unnamed. It was the one that had called that day so long ago in December.

**12:11am  
Didn't wanna call you, but could you come over. You don't have to reply, just show up. If you don't, well it's ok. I'd understand.**

Setting the phone down at his feet, he sat, and waited. An hour later he headed inside.

* * *

It was two 'o clock when the doorbell rang. Dean was on the other side when Castiel opened the door. Castiel pulled Dean into the apartment, urgently.

"I won't make you leave this time." Castiel whispered, hugging Dean. "Stay."

* * *

Edited November 10, 2014


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I know this was a long time coming. Writers block hit me like a bitch and I felt like I wrote myself into a wall, but here it is... all 10K of it. Not really sure how I feel about this chapter, but it's done, and I hope that the next one will come easier. There should be 2 more and then the epilogue. And I wanna thank those who have followed and favorited this fic... Especially since it's lay dormant for so long. It really means a lot to me.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen  
Confess My Heart and Forgive My Wrongs**

* * *

Castiel, feeling Dean stiffen in his arms, automatically dropped them to his sides and backed away. He couldn't fight the flush that overcame him and he couldn't stand the awkwardness that began to grow between the two of them. So he helped Dean out of his jacket and held it. Once again, they stood there; both avoiding each other's attempts at making eye contact.

Coughing nervously, Castiel muttered, "follow me," and headed down the hall to his bedroom. He could hear Dean following close behind – not that he would have expected him to do otherwise. Castiel motioned toward the bed once they'd reached the room. Dean stepped toward the bed and sat down. Castiel closed the door quietly, pressing his forehead to the cool wood, before turning around.

He leaned back against the closed door, staring at his feet, clutching the soft black leather of Dean's jacket to his chest. He inhaled deeply, taking in the intoxicating scent that was _Dean_. Old worn leather blended with musk, patchouli, sage, mahogany, and something softer that he couldn't pinpoint.

"I'm not the one who's been running, Cas." The bed squeaked as Dean shifted his weight trying to get comfortable. "Though I have to admit I'm kinda curious why you're asking me to stay when you look like you're about to run out the damn door any minute now. Would you at least step away from the door, for God's sakes?"

Shuffling away from the door, on command, Castiel sat down on the bed. Dean sat facing the door while Castiel sat at the opposite end facing the bathroom door, making sure to be at the very edge. The mattress jostled as Dean stood up, and then dipped when he sat down again – beside Castiel.

"You scare me," Castiel whispered. He felt Dean stiffen as the words filled the air. "You scare me because of the conflict you cause between my head and my heart.

"I have to run from you, for reasons I can't tell you about right now, and for reasons I may not ever be able to tell you about. I have to run from you because I don't have it in me to be selfish, or to hurt others the way I've been hurt.

"You scare me, Dean… because you make me want to be selfish. You _make_ me want to tell you all those things. I look at you and I want you to be the one to help me fix them. But I can't." The feel of a comforting hand rubbing his back broke the barricade he had built. Tilting to the side, he let Dean hold him as he held the jacket. He felt embarrassed by the tears and by the way his body shook from the force from which they came. But, damn, if it didn't feel good.

"Where is all this coming from?" Dean whispered in reply, hand traveling up from Castiel's back to his hair, playing with the strands. "Ain't Benny gonna be jealous of you confessing your love to another man? 'Cause, to be honest, that man scares the ever living shit out of me."

Castiel looked up at Dean from under his wet lashes, unable to stop the smile that began to tug at his lips when he saw Dean's. "You're such a dumbass."

Wiping away a stray tear with his thumb, Dean's expression grew serious. "That still doesn't answer my question."

"There isn't anything _to_ answer. I'm not confessing my love to you. I miss you. I miss your friendship, I miss… everything, I suppose." He leaned back against Dean's arm as he stretched. "And if I have to tell you one more damn time that Benny and I aren't together, I just might consider the idea of dating him. Since, according to everyone else, we already are anyway."

He couldn't help but smirk as a flash of anger sparked in Dean's eyes, even if it was just for a minute moment. Moving in closer to the man, he couldn't hold back the yawn any longer. At that moment, he nearly fell sideways onto the bed when his prop unexpectedly disappeared, but was caught when he was scooped up off the bed by Dean.

Looking up into Dean's eyes, he found himself unable to stop from searching them; he dropped the jacket to the floor and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. He never broke their gaze as Dean laid him down on bed. And, he never broke their gaze as Dean lay down beside him, lifting the comforter over them to keep away the chill.

"I'm not having sex with you, Winchester, so just get that thought out of your head ri – " Castiel broke off as a yawn took over, "ght now."

Warm arms pulled him closer, chest to chest. "It's not always about sex, Cas. Now go to sleep," he whispered into Castiel's ear. But before the younger could argue, he was swathed in the sweetest, most melodious voice.

_You arrive along with the sun  
Where have you been darlin'? What have you done?  
You were out finding trouble again  
There's a fire in your eyes and there's blood on your hands  
_

He couldn't help but think of the two months that had passed since they'd last spoken. How could he have been so self-centered and not questioned Dean? He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by a finger placed on his lips.

_Come inside and lie down to sleep  
You ain't gonna run and you know that you're beat  
Rest awhile, they're coming for you  
There's a price to be paid for the things that we do  
_

_Fall asleep and forget all your troubles  
Dream of laughter and old friends and lovers  
Dream of when you were innocent  
Dream forever_

Tears pooled along the edges of his eyes once again. The tension in his chest felt constricting. How could a song make him feel like this? Why did it feel like Dean was looking into the depths of his soul, as if he _knew_ him?

He wanted to lean into Dean, feel and familiarize himself with those cupid bow lips once again. But his body had a different plan in store for him.

He fought to keep his eyes open but the sleepless nights he'd been battling had finally caught up to him. Dean ended that war.

_Lord knows you've been 'round in your day  
But this kind of trouble, won't just go away  
Darlin', now you're adrift in the deep  
So just lay down your head and I'll sing you to sleep_

Balling his hand into Dean's shirt and whispering "stay," Castiel sighed as sleep overtook him. As his body went lax, Dean pried Castiel's fingers from his shirt.

Holding him tightly, Dean drifted into a light slumber, his head resting atop a pillow of black.

* * *

Castiel woke up with a groan, pulling the comforter over his head. _I really need to change those damn blinds_, he thought, as he hid away from the blinding light. It was as he came fully conscious that he remembered last night. Pressing himself up with the palm of his hands, the comforter still blanketing him, he looked over to see the other side of the bed empty. Collapsing and kicking the comforter to the floor, he sat up and looked around his room for signs of life.

There was nothing.

No sounds coming from the bathroom, no note on the bedside table, just… nothing.

Getting out of bed and stumbling into the living room, he found Kevin at his usual location – the kitchen table. His normally weary eyed roommate seemed to be more alert this morning, and he questioned him about his current disposition.

"Got a few hours' sleep last night, but I was up early enough to see a certain _someone_ slip out." Kevin winked at him before looking back at his laptop. "So, what happened between you two last night." It came out as more of a statement rather than a question.

"Nothing happened," Castiel grumbled as he made his way to the kitchen, cursing at the cold pot of the coffee. Dumping the brown sludge into the sink, coffee grinds and filter into the trash, he set about making a new pot.

"Mmm hmm, 'course nothing happened. We all know when someone says 'nothing happened,' it usually means something happened. I also saw the look on Dean's face, so spill it. What happened?" Kevin inquired, appearing beside him.

Castiel leaned over the percolating brew, as if he could inhale the caffeine from the stem. When he had deemed there was enough for a cup, he grabbed a mug and filled it. He disregarded his usual cream and sugar, deciding to drink it black.

"And sometimes when someone says 'nothing happened,' it usually means that NOTHING HAPPENED!" he snapped, stepping around Kevin and heading toward his room.

Stopping at the entrance to the hallway that led to their rooms, he kept his back to Kevin as he asked, "What time did Dean leave?"

"6," the response came, coolly.

"Oh. What time is it now?"

"12," Kevin replied, the response almost smug, this time.

He waited a moment before whispering "oh," and sheepishly shuffling to his room.

Taking a small sip, he remembered how disgusting black coffee was.

So focused on forcing himself to keep the drink down, he completely ignored the jacket on the floor.

So lost in thought on how people could possibly _drink_ this filth, he completely ignored the pillow that somehow landed on his bedside table.

So distracted with heading to the bathroom to dump out the offending brew, he completely missed the piece of paper that had fallen and somehow made its way safely under his bed.

* * *

Castiel ended up doing what he did best – ignoring his problems.

He felt betrayed by the fact that Dean had left when all he had asked of him was to stay. Was it _that_ selfish of a thing to ask?

Of course he recognized the fact that Dean had never said that he _would_ stay, but he _had_ left his jacket… so that was a good sign. At least, he _thought_ it was a good sign.

So, why was he ignoring Dean's calls and texts? Why was he avoiding him when he came into Shot? Why was he hiding when he saw Dean waiting for him outside the apartment? It was even worse when he waited at the bus stop.

Kevin had sworn he had never given out Castiel's schedule, but the fact that his roommate wouldn't meet his eyes gave him some doubt.

* * *

It was the last Monday of February when Dean finally caught him.

He had just exited his first class of the day when he was jerked, rather unceremoniously, by the elbow and around the corner. Swinging his backpack at his assumed assailant, the pack was caught and thrown to the floor. His next course of action was to run but, apparently that was too obvious. The hold on his arm tightened.

As he was pulled closer, "Would you stop it already?" was hissed in his ear. The voice was familiar, very pissed, and knee weakeningly deep. Looking up at Dean, Castiel's urge to run increased. It was also joined with the need to punch the shit out of the taller man. He decided to choose the latter since his earlier attempt at the previous had failed.

Either he had become rather predictable or the other had become psychic.

Dean caught Castiel's fist, and brought both of their arms up, forcing Castiel's against the wall. Moving in closer, Dean pressed his chest against Castiel's. Only instead of looking intimidated, Castiel smirked at the feel of something _else_ pressing against him.

"Didn't know you liked it rough, Winchester. I'll be sure to keep that in mind next time I go gift shopping for you," Castiel said cheekily with a wink. His next remark was lost when he noticed how close their faces were. So close, in fact, that while glaring at each other, Castiel could make out the flecks of gold in the other man's eyes.

He hadn't noticed that Dean was pulling away until the pressure was gone from his chest and the other's warmth began to fade. _Dammit, can't you pay attention for at least three seconds,_ he inwardly cursed as he chased after Dean, leaving his backpack behind.

Catching up was the easy part, getting Dean to stop – not so easy. Finally sick of trying to talk him into stopping, Castiel decided just to take matters into his own hands. Jumping onto Dean's back, he wrapped his arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life. When Dean finally stopped, Castiel continued to hold on just in case.

"What the fuck was that about?! First, you practically give me a heart attack and then you ignore me! Seriously Dean, I'm getting mixed signals here." His irritation started to melt away as Dean began to walk with him still latched on. "So, you're just gonna keep ignoring me now?"

Silence.

"Well, could you at least stop so I could get off?" All he got in a reply was a snort at the innuendo, which wasn't helped by the fact that his cock was rubbing against Dean's back. Castiel decided to keep his mouth shut and let Dean carry him across campus to where ever it was they were going.

* * *

Dean stopped at the back of his truck, which he'd parked at an off-campus parking lot, and lowered the tailgate before turning around and prying Castiel off of him. Not giving him a chance to escape, Dean turned around and climbed onto the bed of the truck, pressing Castiel down.

"You wanna talk about mixed signals? You text me in the middle of the goddamn night – Valentine's night, if you wanna get exact– to tell me that you wanna go back to being 'friends.' I'm not sure what it means to be friends in your book, but the last time I checked, friends don't exactly ignore each other for damn near two weeks! Hell, if that were the case, we've been friends since fucking December!"

Castiel gulped.

He'd never seen this side of Dean before, not that he'd known the man for very long. But, he did know that Dean would never hurt him so he pushed aside his fear. "Technically, it _wasn't_ Valentine's night. And I think I have every right to be pissed! You just up and left without saying a word. You could have left a message with Kevin, left a note. Hell, you could have even woken me up and TOLD me you were leaving. But no, you just fucking left. Just like everyone else fucking does."

Castiel didn't realize that he'd shed any tears until he felt a thumb swipe across his cheek tenderly. Dean had let up on his grip, allowing them both to sit up. Dean went and perched on the tailgate while Castiel sat crossed legged on the bed, facing him.

"I did leave a note, Cas. Right there on the pillow. It said I had to get home or else Lisa'd be pissed, but I'd try and get in touch with you later." Dean's voice had lost the venom it had held just moments ago. "I figured you had changed your mind when you started ignoring me."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean sheepishly stared at the ground. "I didn't wanna wake you 'cause you looked like you needed the sleep, and Kevin well… you're right. I guess I could have said something to him."

"Ya think?" Castiel sighed and rubbed his face, embarrassed by the heat radiating from his cheeks. "But I guess I could have been less of an asshole and at least talked to you." Sighing again and unfolding his legs, he scooted forward to sit beside Dean. "Did you really leave a note?"

Dean nodded before speaking. "You know, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you." Castiel tilted his head and pressed his knee against Dean's. "Why did you text me?" Dean continued, "There had to be more to it than just that talk. So spill it."

"It was the key." This time it was Dean's head that tilted, mostly upward and with squinted eyes, which looked so hilarious that Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "To the truck. The key to the truck."

At Dean's further look of confusion, Castiel withdrew a set of keys, which were attached to his Grumpy Cat keychain, from his pocket. He sifted through them until letting out an "ah ha," and held up the key in question. "The key you apparently gave me for Christmas."

"Oh _that_ key."

"Yes, _that_ key." Castiel shoved his keys back in his pocket. "Benny showed me the truck that night and hinted that you were the one that fixed it up. I hadn't realized that you'd given me the key until that night, and I'd wanted to thank you. Guess I never got around to it. So um… thank you."

Dean shrugged and then furrowed his eyebrows. "You hadn't opened the box until _that night_!? Oh my God… Cas, seriously," he shoved him playfully. "But you're welcome, I guess."

Castiel opened his mouth to respond but floundered before speaking. "Well, while this has been fun, I've really gotta get to class… and my backpack." Castiel indicated with his thumb the direction of the building they'd come from, smirking.

"Why don't you grab your pack and play hooky with me? We could go take the truck for a spin, since you're apparently too chicken shit to drive it."

Castiel jumped down from the truck and headed around to the passenger door. "One: I'm not playing hooky with you. Two: It's not 'playing hooky' if you're the boss. Three: I can't be scared to drive it if I can't actually drive it."

Dean followed, unlocking the passenger door for Castiel before heading to the driver's side. "Yes you are, yes it is, and what the fuck are you talking about? You have the key. You can drive the damn thing whenever you fucking want to." Dean unlocked his door, and turned to stare at Castiel as they both got seated.

"No, I can't, Dean."

"Yes, you can, Cas."

"NO, I can't, Dean."

"YES, you can, Cas."

Throwing his arms up in the air, exasperated, Castiel finally gave up. "I can't drive a fucking stick shift. Okay? So go ahead, laugh." Looking out the window, waiting for the sound of the endless mocking he knew would be coming, he was surprised when it never came.

"You didn't think about asking me to teach you?" The truck rumbled to life as they headed toward the building they'd left earlier. "I'm not _that_ bad of a teacher, and my price is pretty cheap."

Castiel turned to look at Dean, shocked. He couldn't understand why the man beside him wasn't mercilessly teasing him. "Oh, and what's the price, my left kidney?"

"Nope, I just want my jacket back." They came to a stop at the building where this whole mess had started. Dean put the truck in the park and waited for Castiel to get out. When his passenger made no indication of doing so, he reached over and opened the door himself. "Well?"

"Well, it's kind of a shame. I kinda like that jacket way too much now." Castiel escaped the truck and took off running towards the building.

He made the rest of his classes that day with his backpack – and Dean's jacket.

* * *

Dean and Castiel were in the parking lot of an abandoned building early one March morning. Castiel sat in the driver's seat of the truck looking nervous. Dean looked pretty damn confident. Maybe _too_ confident for Castiel's taste.

"Okay Cas, let's get you used to the clutch. First off, do you know where the clutch is?" Dean asked sincerely, only to be met with a "no shit" look from Castiel. "Alright smarty pants, what about the different gears?"

Once again Dean was met with the same expression, then a sarcastic "1, 2, 3, 4, R."

"And where's neutral?" Dean asked coolly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Castiel looked at the stick, his head tipped to the side, as if the damned thing would suddenly blurt out the answer for him. When Dean finally broke the silence with a cough, Castiel finally had to admit defeat. He didn't know.

Dean had to fight the smirk that wanted to break out across his face. Taking control of the stick, he wiggled it, indicating that it was in the center. He then raised an eyebrow to his student, as if saying that _that_ was neutral. Castiel rolled his eyes with a huff.

"Now that we have that part covered, can you show me how you'd go through all the gears?" Dean moved his hand away, took Castiel's and placed it on the knob of the stick. "C'mon, show me what you know."

Sliding his hand down and looking at the layout on the knob, Castiel gripped it tight and pushed it left and upward. Looking up at Dean, who nodded and waved him to continue, Castiel pulled the stick down toward him. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he looked up at Dean once again, this time his eyes pleading for help.

Dean shook his head and chuckled, instructing him to push it upwards and toward the center. Once Castiel had done that, he pulled the stick back, figuring that must be the next gear. Shifting to the right and up, he slipped the truck into fifth gear. When he went to pull the stick into reverse Dean stopped him, letting him know they'd go over that later, and placed the stick back into neutral.

"Start her up."

Castiel looked at Dean as if he'd just asked him to move to Mars to live with alien monkeys. "What do you mean 'start her up'? I'm not ready to drive this thing yet!"

"Who said anything about driving _her_? Sheesh Cas, stop over reacting so much. Now like I said, start her up." Dean leaned back and watched as Castiel turned the key. The truck mocked the blue eyed man by failing to crank. Castiel tried three times before Dean finally stopped him and pointed to the clutch.

Glaring, yet blushing, Castiel pushed the clutch in and turned the key. The engine roared to life and he felt his heart pound at the sound. He had never been one to care for the sound of engines. In fact, he _hated_ the obscene noise they created. But this – this time it was different. This was his – this was his Baby that created that sound.

"Um, Dean… can I let go of the clutch and press the brake now?"

Castiel heard the seat rub against Dean's jeans as he moved closer and removed Castiel's hand from the key. "Take your foot off the clutch, but don't press the brake." Dean brought Castiel's hand down to the lever, which was inclined, by the stick shift. "This is your hand brake. Whenever the truck is parked and not in use, make sure you have this up. When you need to come to a complete stop, press the clutch _and_ the brake at the same, okay? After you've started the truck, press the clutch, shift into first gear, then release the hand brake."

Castiel listened and followed all of Dean's instructions regarding his driving lesson. Oh and it was hard.

Every time he heard gears grinding or he stalled out, Castiel just wanted to get out the truck and walk away.

But he couldn't.

He didn't know how to park the damn truck yet, and it was his only way back home. Also, Dean wasn't going to let him give up yet.

* * *

The sun was starting to set when they called it quits for the day. The two men lay on the bed of the truck, Dean with his arms over his eyes; Castiel had his head pillowed by his. He still needed a few more lessons before he'd feel comfortable enough to drive alone, so they'd planned on doing this again in a couple of days. But, for right now, Castiel watched the sky as its mixtures of blues and pinks formed streaks of purple in the sky.

"Dean, I've been meaning to ask you… why have you been doing all this?" Castiel didn't need to look in Dean's direction; he could feel his eyes on him. He was surprised though when the reply came a bit closer than he'd expected.

"Why have I been doing all of what?" Dean's breath ghosted his ear, causing a shiver to run up Castiel's spine.

"All of this. Fixing the truck," he kept looking up as he unfolded his arms and rubbed his hand over the metal underneath him, "without my help. Helping to teach me how to drive it – excuse me - _her_. It's a lot of shit that you really didn't have to do, ya know."

"I know I didn't have to do it, but what was gonna stop me for doing it? Okay, sure, you could have fixed her by yourself – or with Benny." There was some hesitation, and something else that Castiel couldn't pinpoint, in Dean's voice. But the mechanic continued before Castiel could contemplate on it.

"You could have found someone else to teach you as well, but again, as far as the truck goes." Dean grew silent and Castiel finally turned to look at him. "I figured someone needed to do something for you for once."

"How do you know what people have or haven't done for me?" he asked, defensively.

"Well, you wouldn't be questioning me like you were expecting me to ask for something in return."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

* * *

It's always been said that April showers bring May flowers. Well, this shower was more like a downpour.

Castiel was sitting on the balcony listening to the rain, the only light available to him was that from streetlights surrounding the building. With the steady pounding of the storm outside, he almost expected a roll of thunder to fill the night. However, the only rumble he heard was from a car careening through the parking lot.

Rolling his eyes and holding back the offensive words he wanted to shout, mainly because they'd go unheard, he went back to losing himself in the steady beat of the rain. But once again he was interrupted. This time it was by a knocking, or to be more precise, a banging at his door. With a grumble and a check of the clock – a little past one in the morning – he hoisted his body up and to the door. Shock could quite possibly have been an understatement for what he saw.

Dean reeked of beer, whiskey, and cheap perfume. His clothes and hair were drenched. Even leaning against the door, he could barely keep himself on his own two feet. It was hard to say how many drinks the man had had, or how long he'd been going at it, but by the looks of things, it had been too many and for too long.

Castiel opened the door a bit wider only to have Dean pick that moment to stumble forward. Reaching out, Castiel grabbed him, nearly collapsing under the dead weight of the taller man. With a grunt and a heave, he dragged Dean into the living room, rolling him onto the couch. Going to close the door, he came back to find Dean sitting up with his head in his hands. Castiel wasn't sure if Dean was going to be sick or burst into an emotional breakdown. He wasn't prepared to handle either one.

Lucky for him it was neither.

"She kicked me out," the words came out surprisingly sober. "She kicked me out and I had nowhere else to go, Cas. I didn't know what else do to. I don't _know_ what else to do." Dean rubbed his face but never removed his hands.

Sitting down beside him, Castiel placed a hand on Dean's back, which the other man shrunk away from. Jerking his hand away, Castiel placed both his hands on his lap and coughed nervously before speaking. "Why did she kick you out, Dean? What happened? Where have you been?"

The questions didn't come out accusatory, but Dean's reaction surely made them appear as if they had. Dean dropped his hands and twisted his head to face Castiel, his eyes narrowed and bloodshot. Castiel couldn't help but flinch, the movement went unnoticed. "It's none of your fucking business! I can do whatever the fuck I want and go wherever the hell I goddamn please, so just shut your damn mouth!"

When Castiel opened his mouth to speak again, Dean raised his hand in Castiel's direction, causing him to flinch once more. This time Dean did notice, and his anger was quickly diffused. Instead of apologizing though, Dean jumped up and stumbled as he bolted out the door.

The rumble that Castiel had heard earlier filled the silent night as Dean drove off.

* * *

Dean showed up again later that week. It was earlier in the evening and he was 100% drunk this time.

The same as last time, Castiel helped Dean to the couch. The only difference was that before Castiel could talk, Dean had passed out.

Castiel watched over him, even left a couple of pain relievers and a glass of water on the coffee table, plus a small trash can by his head. At some point between the light naps that Castiel had been catching that night, Dean had slipped out.

The pain relievers were gone; the glass of water was empty. There was also a nice looking drool stain on the couch cushion where Dean had laid his head.

* * *

The next time it happened Castiel was prepared. He had gone out the day after the last incident and gotten an eighteen pack of beer. He didn't know what kind Dean liked, and it didn't matter at this point. What mattered was keeping the man there, and if keeping him drunk was what he had to do… Well he was gonna keep him drunk.

Dean showed up again, though this time it was still daylight, but the sun would be setting soon. Castiel wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been home, but pushed the thought aside as he led the drunken man to the couch. Grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, Castiel pretended to drink his own as Dean drank his quickly and asked for another.

Castiel went ahead and brought the pack into the living room.

After Dean began to eye Castiel and his bottle wearily, Castiel took a sip and had to fight his gag reflex. This man was slowly causing him to break his morals down, piece by piece, and it seemed there was nothing he could do about it. So Castiel continued to sip from his bottle until he became accustomed to the taste and developed a slight buzz.

Grabbing another bottle from the pack, he grabbed the now half-empty box and took it back to the kitchen. He couldn't fight the chuckle that came as a response to Dean's groans of discontentment. A slurred combination of words that could have possibly been Dean cursing him out, had Castiel in a fit of giggles on his way back to the couch.

_Damn, I'm a fucking light weight_, he thought as he collapsed beside the man who was now struggling to stand up.

"Hey, where are you going?" Castiel reached out to grab Dean's arm as he stood up, only to have him jerk his arm away too quickly for Castiel's liking. The motion caused Dean to stagger and nearly trip over the coffee table. But before Castiel could catch him, Dean made a move to the right and fell.

Rolling off the couch and coming close to hitting the coffee table himself, Castiel crawled over to Dean laid down beside him. "Where are you going? You're just a little," Castiel held his hand up, pinching his thumb and forefinger together in front of Dean's face, "bit drunk."

"Lisa." Dean tried to push himself up, but the amount of alcohol in his system kept him on the floor. Once again he repeated his wife's name and tried to get up. The struggle continued until Dean exhausted himself and passed out.

Struggling to his feet, Castiel went to get a blanket from his room. On his way back he passed his phone lying on the kitchen table, and a part of him considered calling Lisa to tell her to come get Dean. Maybe he could call Benny to come get him.

Instead he went back and got a pillow, then made sure Dean was comfortable before stretching himself out on the couch with a blanket of his own. He watched over Dean until he drifted off to sleep for a nap of his own.

* * *

When Castiel woke up the room was filled with the glow of the street lights. Sitting up he could make out the shadow of Dean's figure stumbling around the living room, bumping into walls and the kitchen table. Throwing the blanket off and clambering off the couch, he made his way to Dean before the man seriously hurt himself.

Catching Dean's arm and ducking underneath it, wrapping it around his shoulder, he quietly asked what he was searching for. Dean muttered "bathroom" and tried to wrangle his arm free of Castiel's grip, but failed.

Leading Dean to the bathroom in his bedroom, Castiel made sure Dean was steady enough to stand before closing the door. He wasn't surprised when the sound of Dean relieving himself was followed by the sound of him retching – hopefully into the toilet – was heard.

Dean seemed a bit more coherent afterwards and decided that he was going to leave without a word, but Castiel pushed him down on the bed. With instructions to "sleep it off," Castiel turned to leave, planning on sleeping on the couch. Someone else had a different plan when he was yanked to the bed.

No matter how hard he struggled, Castiel couldn't escape Dean's hold, so he settled in.

* * *

The next morning the weight that had been holding him down was gone. Once again he felt hurt; this time he had no reason for it to be justified. Dean had left every time thus far, why would he stay this time? Climbing out of bed, and then making a quick stop to ease the pain in his bladder, he followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen.

"If this is your way of bribing me in to spilling anything about last night, it's gonna take a lot more than a cup of coffee, Kevin." Castiel muttered as he passed the table and headed for the pot of still percolating liquid. Reaching up for a mug, a wave of something similar to Déjà vu swept over him, but he ignored it. Setting the mug down and turning to get the cream from the fridge, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

The hand was a contradictory mix of firmness and gentleness, one that was familiar but not. "Castiel, I'm not sure what happened last night…" The weight of Dean's hand disappeared and in its place was the sound of a mug being set down on the counter. With a sigh, Castiel got the cream and turned around to see Dean watching him. Quirking an eyebrow, he set about fixing his coffee, waiting for Dean to continue.

When it was obvious that Dean wasn't going to speak, Castiel took a sip of coffee, hissing as the too hot liquid burned his tongue. He then set his mug beside Dean's and stepped up beside him. "What _do_ you think happened last night, Dean? Because I can tell you right now not a damned thing happened. Well, besides you get fucking plastered. And speaking off, how are you even functioning right now?"

Dean looked down at him and shrugged. That was his only response to both questions.

"So what now," he reached out for his coffee and took a timid sip, testing the temperature, like he should have done the first time. "Are you just going to leave again and then show up tonight drunk? Well, be my guest. You and Kevin can become drinking buddies for a night."

"I'm not leaving, okay. I just hate feeling that I'm doing all this shit to you. I don't understand why I keep showing up here. I don't understand anything, Castiel."

Upon hearing the lack of his nickname for the second time, Castiel looked up to see Dean still looking at him somberly. "It may help to start by talking about why you showed up the first night. Tell me why Lisa kicked you out."

"I can't do that."

"Why not? What could have _possibly_ happened that was so bad that she kicked you out. Dean, you have to tell _someone.._. So why not me!?" He demanded, growing annoyed with Dean's tiptoeing around the issue.

Dean shook his head and backed away from Castiel. "I can't do that, Cas, and if I thought I could I would. I'm sorry for what I did that night – almost hitting you – and I had no right to show up again like I did. Like I said, I don't know why I keep coming here, but I'll try and stay out of your hair from now on, okay?"

Before Castiel could say anything, Dean grabbed his jacket and left the apartment. He sighed and set his coffee beside Dean's empty mug. It was then that he noticed that Dean's was completely clean.

* * *

May was a busy month for Castiel.

In between studying for finals and working, he rarely saw Dean – or Benny for that matter. After their falling out that morning the month before, Castiel had kept his distance from the garage and only saw Dean when he came to visit Lisa. Whatever had been going on between the couple must have worked itself out because the two seemed to be as happy as ever.

So with all of this going on, he couldn't have been happier to see the end of the month come along. He'd already packed his bags the night before, so all that was left was to grab a few essentials (snacks for the road), load the truck, and head home for the weekend. This plan all went to hell and back when he got off the bus and entered the apartment.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Winchester?" Castiel demanded as he stormed over to the couch and yanked the remote from the hand of the man in question. Dean had been lounging on the couch, his jean clad legs crossed with his boots resting on the arm. One of Dean's arms was behind his head being used as support while the other was draped leisurely across his stomach, the remote in hand. Castiel faltered when he saw that Dean's raised arm caused his shirt to rise up, but he schooled his features when Dean looked in his direction, in a huff.

"Kevin let me in before he left for class. He said you'd be back soon and to make myself at home. So I did. Now give me the remote back!" It was Dean's turn to be demanding, but all it did was cause Castiel to turn the television off exactly as the doctor wearing ridiculous cowboy boots was leaning in to kiss the nurse. "Oh, c'mon Cas!" he cried out, catching the scene as the screen went black.

Dean leapt off the couch as Castiel headed for his bedroom to gather his bags. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as Dean followed him. Taking longer strides to catch up, Dean started to lean over and around, attempting to get the remote from Castiel. Having had enough, Castiel finally stuffed the device down the front of his pants, a smirk playing on his lips. Opening the door to his room and turning around as he grabbed his bag, Castiel burst out laughing at the expression on Dean's face.

"Damn Cas, if I knew this type of thing got you excited, I'd have done it a long time ago." Dean leered and stepped closer, only to have Castiel yank out the remote and whack Dean on the arm with it.

"Knock it off, Dean, and get the hell out of here. I'm already running late and you're not helping. So go!"

"Okay, okay!" Dean held his hands up in self-defense as he asked, "You gonna drive the truck to wherever it is you're going?"

"No, Dean. I'm gonna sprout wings and fly my feathery ass there. Of course, I'm driving the truck! God, don't ask stupid questions." Castiel snapped as he shoved past Dean and out of his room. Dean followed close behind as Castiel dropped his bag on the couch and headed into the kitchen for a couple of bottles of water and something to munch on.

"You know I didn't mean it like that. I was just wondering if maybe I could come along." Dean pulled a chair from the table and turned it around, straddling it. "You know, in case something happens." He rested his chin on his folded arms, watching Castiel move around the kitchen.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, ignoring the way that Dean's jeans strained over his thighs, or the way his sleeves showed off his muscular biceps. Feeling a flush creep across his face, he opened the fridge and stuck his head in, hoping the coolness would calm him down. "What could possibly happen?"

"It's an old truck; I don't know what could happen with it. And if you're gonna go a long way, I'd hate to think of you getting stuck out in the middle of nowhere." The sincerity in Dean's voice caused Castiel to pause as he grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, but he ignored it. He had to get out of here, _now_.

Closing the fridge door, foregoing any snacks, he calmly walked past Dean and grabbed his bag. "That's what triple A is for."

Castiel groaned inwardly as Dean followed him out of the apartment, continuing the conversation. "Those assholes are useless, Cas. How about you let me come with you… Where are you going anyway?"

"It's really none of your damn business, Dean. So if you don't mind, I'd really like to get going now."

"Does it have anything to do with your birthday?" Dean asked smugly, which caused Castiel to stop on their way down the last flight of stairs.

Turning around with eyes narrowed in a death glare, causing Dean to shrink back, Castiel hissed, "How'd you know about my birthday?"

"A little birdy told me. Well, I _may_ have overheard a little birdy," he said. And, was that a whimper?

With a groan and a palm to his forehead, Castiel turned and continued to make his way down the stairs. Of course, Lisa would have to open her big mouth about his birthday with Dean within earshot. "Oh my god… fine. Yes, it has to do with my birthday. I'm heading home for the weekend to spend it with my mom. Alone."

Dean's heavy footsteps followed behind him, pace quickening to keep up with him. "C'mon Cas, you know you want me to come. You'd miss my adorable face the entire time you were gone." Finally catching up, Dean rushed in front of him and grabbed ahold of his shoulders.

"I haven't missed it yet," Castiel retorted, walking steadily forward toward his truck. The motion forcing Dean to start walking backwards.

"Ouch! That really hurt, you know. But I see how it is. I guess I'll just go hang out with someone who really appreciates my company…" Letting go of him, Dean stepped aside and began walking over to the Impala. Castiel must have been in such a hurry to get upstairs that he completely missed it.

Castiel felt a tug at his heart strings as he watched Dean walk away, his head bowed down in defeat. "Fine, if it'll get you to shut up and stop the guilt trip, you can come. We'll just stop by your place and get your… bag?" He shook his head as he placed his own bag in the back of the truck. Dean came sauntering back toward him, swinging his own bag in hand. "Why do you already have a bag packed in your car?"

Dean shrugged as he placed his bag beside Castiel's and then climbed in the truck. "Do you really wanna know the answer to that question?"

Opening the door and climbing in, he looked at Dean, who was waiting for his response with a raised eyebrow. Castiel sighed and pinched the bridge his nose before starting the truck up. "I honestly don't know."

"Then let's go!" Dean cheerfully said as he banged his hands on the dashboard.

* * *

Of course Anna fell in love with Dean. Who _wouldn't_ fall in love with him when he was throwing on the charm like he was? Castiel couldn't understand why Dean was trying to impress Anna so much, and he never got a chance to ask him about it that night. After a relaxing night of pizza eating and movie watching, the trio all turned in for the night. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of everything that had happened that day, or the fact that Dean was down the hall in the guest room, but Castiel found he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next day after breakfast, Anna suggested that Castiel give Dean a tour around the place, a request that was met with a groan from Castiel. Dean was no help at all, sitting back with a grin on his face as he watched the interaction between mother and son.

Reluctantly, and with a death glare from Anna, Castiel finally agreed. Wordlessly stomping out the backdoor, Dean in tow, they began their tour.

As the two men walked through the ankle high grass out of view of the house, Castiel watched Dean out of the corner of his eye. He felt a stab of envy at seeing how the older man seemed to be handling their trek through the heat fairly well, considering they were both wearing similar clothes.

Castiel could feel his black shirt sticking to his back, beads of sweat trailing down from the sopping hair that was now clinging to his neck. His legs felt weighed down by the dampness of his jeans. Dean, on the other hand, didn't look the tiniest bit bothered by the heat. Not that Castiel could bring himself to complain.

Dean had taken the lead at some point and Castiel was rewarded with the view of Dean's back, visible under the slight sheerness of his white shirt. His skin tight jeans cupped his ass perfectly and, if Castiel just happened to stumble into Dean out of sheer distraction, he'd deny it to his death bed.

Turning around, Dean squinted against the glare of the sun to look down at him and Castiel had to bite his lip to fight back the groan that was threatening to erupt. He wondered if Dean wore that particular shirt today on purpose.

In an effort to disguise his arousal, he pushed Dean out of his way and kept walking. It wasn't long before Dean took the lead again, heading toward a clearing surrounded by trees and even higher grass. Rushing in front of Dean, Castiel tried to stop him from entering the area but it was worthless effort. Dean only pulled him along, rolling his eyes as Castiel ranted about the dangers of snakes and other dangerous wild life that could be hiding in the grass.

Once they'd made it safely past the trees of the clearing, Castiel still hadn't calm down, but Dean didn't pay him any attention. Letting Castiel fall behind, Dean went off on his own taking in the sights. A tattered volleyball net and a few sports balls that were covered in grime, most likely from years of exposure to the elements, were propped against a tree to his right. To his left was a small pond, the water darkened and covered in a film of algae. Not far from the pond was a mixture of rusted bikes.

Castiel took in the same sights as Dean and felt a wave of nostalgia crash over him. So when Dean questioned him about all the items, Castiel couldn't stop the words that poured from his mouth. He told Dean about all the times that his family would come out here to spend weekend afternoons just goofing off. He told Dean about all the embarrassing mishaps that had occurred (mostly to him) during those times, and about everything that he could remember from all those years ago.

When Castiel finished talking, he and Dean were laying in the grass staring up at the cloudless sky. They were lying a lot closer than Castiel should have been comfortable with, but it didn't seem to bother him now. Turning to look at Dean, he was surprised to see a pair of green eyes already watching him. Castiel couldn't name the look in those eyes, but the intensity of it brought out a blush, spreading across his cheeks.

"Did anyone ever tell you how damn cute you are when you blush?"

Castiel opened his mouth, ready to spit out a witty retort to the awful line that Dean had just used, but his mind got caught up in the fact that Dean had just tried to use a line on him. So that was all that he could utter was, "uh-uh" and blush harder. Apparently, this was all that Dean could take, because all Castiel heard was "aw hell" before his lips were being pressed against Dean's.

The kiss was different from their first one. This one didn't have the intensity, the urgency. This one was gentle, matching the light breeze that rustled Castiel's hair and the grass surrounding them. Wrapping his arms around Dean, Castiel held on to him as Dean began rubbing his tongue along the seam of Castiel's lips.

Finally, he opened his mouth to Dean's insistent tongue and moaned into Dean's mouth. Castiel's lungs were burning for air, breathing through his nose was not enough, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away. The pain finally became too much, and when Castiel pulled away in a gasp, Dean rolled him over on his back.

Castiel should have complained when Dean crawled on top of him, should have complained when Dean latched on to his neck, should have complained because of the extra heat from Dean's body. But, he didn't. He just kept his arms wrapped around Dean and closed his eyes, the guilt he _should_ have been feeling a millions miles from his mind.

* * *

Castiel's birthday turned out to be a small affair with Dean and Anna. Dean grilled burgers and Anna made red velvet cake coated in cream cheese frosting. As far as presents went, Anna gifted him with cash to do with what he wished.

All-in-all it was a perfect day and Castiel didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go back to the real world where Dean would say their kiss was a mistake and never speak to him again.

But when night fell the truck was packed up and they were headed back home. The ride was silent, Dean's hand resting on Castiel's knee the entire trip.

But when they parked in front of Castiel's apartment, he couldn't have been more shocked when Dean kissed him before climbing out of the truck and grabbing their bags. He grinned like an idiot as he watched Dean climb the stairs to Castiel's apartment, and he couldn't have been happier to have been wrong. Or to finally receive his gift from Dean.

* * *

Castiel found himself burying the guilt he felt. He knew it was wrong to continue seeing Dean after that night but, for once in a long time, he was happy. Truly, truly _happy_. So he ignored the feeling every time they would meet, and trusted that Dean would do the right thing. For the both of them.

* * *

Lisa and Ben had gone to her parent's house for the week and Dean decided to stay behind to keep an eye on things. Of course, this gave Dean the time to spend with Castiel and stay the night at Castiel's place without questions.

It was on this particular June night, a June night that four years ago had changed Castiel's life, which found Dean sitting in the living room with his guitar. Castiel sat across from him, humming along as Dean's fingers strummed the chords. The song was familiar and, when he finally caught on, Castiel grinned and began mouthing the lyrics until Dean looked him straight in the eyes and sang.

_So excuse me forgetting  
But these things I do  
You see I've forgotten_

Pausing his ministrations, Castiel caught on quickly and softly whispered _if they're green_ in his best singing voice. Dean smiled and began playing once again, singing the rest of the verse.

_Or they're blue  
Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean  
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_

After playing out the rest of the song, Dean sat the guitar down only to have Castiel push him down and crawl over him. Castiel wasn't sure what Dean's feelings for him were but Castiel was suddenly sure of his feelings for him.

Castiel was in love. 100%.

Pressing his lips to Dean's, he made sure he kissed him with all the love he felt. And, if he imagined that Dean was kissing him back with just as much feeling then, well, he kept that thought to himself.

When Kevin came home later that night, he found the two men sleeping soundly on the floor. Castiel was nestled on top of Dean, his face pressed into the crook of Dean's neck, while Dean was snoring soundly.

* * *

The rest of that month and the next went by with Castiel pushing Dean away then pulling him back again. He could feel his old habits creeping back, paranoia being the main one. There were times he thought about breaking away from Dean but then he'd smile and those green eyes would sparkle with adoration and… Hell he couldn't do it.

So, when Dean would pull Castiel close and tell him that he'd always be there, Castiel would just nod and pretend to believe him. Because Castiel couldn't let Dean see what was really going on inside, so he just faked it.

* * *

"Are we a thing?"

"A thing?" Dean raised an eyebrow as he propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at a completely debauched Castiel. "What the hell does that even mean, Cas? 'A thing.'"

Castiel took a deep breath, and then let it out in a huff. "Okay so maybe not the best wording, but are together. A couple. Exclusive." Looking over Dean's shoulder and taking another deep breath, Castiel let it out as he said, "AreyouleavingLisa?"

"Castiel, you know it's not that easy. I can't –"

"Then leave, okay. If you can't leave her, then leave me. Or I'll leave you. Fuck, I don't know… just either way, you need to go." Getting off the bed and ignoring Dean, he headed for the closet and locked himself in. He knew he looked crazy at that moment, but he needed the familiarity of this.

The sound of weight shifting on the bed and, footsteps on the floor leading out the room gave Castiel some relief. Until he heard the footsteps return and a note appear at his feet. He couldn't bring himself to read, not with the person still on the other side of the door. So after what seemed like an hour, the person finally left, and Castiel was left with the decision. _Do I read this and possibly get my heart broken even more? Do I read this and find out he changed his mind that he _is_ leaving Lisa? Or do I just throw it away and ignore Dean, just forget any of this shit ever happened?_

Stepping out of the closet, letter crumpled in his hand, he sat on the edge of the bed. Thoughts of what could be written on the piece of paper in his hand finally got the best of him, and he smoothed it out.

"_Cas, I'm thinking of Ben right now. If the situation were any different, I'd leave her to be with you in an instant, but I can't right now. Understand that I care about you, and when the time comes, it'll just be me and you. Please be patient. For me. – Dean."_

* * *

_Coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine  
Gotta, gotta be down, because I want it all  
It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this  
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss_

It was an unusually cool night in August when it happened. Castiel had been calling Dean's cell but wasn't getting an answer from him, so he decided to drop by his house. He had no reason to be here. It had been over a month since he'd seen Dean, so why should Dean see him now. It's not as if he should drop everything to come to his beck and call.

As he parked across the street from Dean's house, he saw Lisa and Dean heading up the side walk and stopping at the stairs in front of their place. Castiel prepared himself to call Dean's cell again when Lisa leaned in for a kiss. A kiss that Dean accepted.

Not able to watch anymore, he turned away and peeled out on to the road. Turning up the volume as he drove away, the voice of Brandon Flowers filling the car; he knew what he had to do. He knew that after this, he wouldn't only feel guilt but jealousy.

As he pressed down on the gas he screamed out the rest of the song.

_I just can't look its killing me, and taking control  
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea  
Swimming through sick lullabies  
Choking on your alibis  
But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me  
Open up my eager eyes  
Cause I'm Mr. Brightside_

He knew being in a relationship – or whatever this was – was a bad idea. He knew he hadn't changed one bit. He just hoped he had the strength to follow through with his decision.


End file.
